Out of Time
by Randomite
Summary: Steve is literally a man out of time as he stands trial for a crime he does not believe he committed against a court with recourse to the ultimate sanction: His total erasure from time itself. Friendship and bromance as it progresses. Veers into comedy/drama territory.
1. Chapter 1

**Thematically, this one starts serious but kind of veers a little into comedy/drama along the way.  
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**The "courtroom" language in this chapter is just my idea of an alien approximation of same - please don't haul me over the coals if it's nowhere near the real thing.  
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**Pairings: None - just friendship and possibly a bit of bromance down the line.  
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**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just enjoying writing for fun.  
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**Chapter One**

"_Steven Rogers, you have been summoned before the Governing Council of Khronos arraigned on the charge of deliberately abusing Time for your own personal gain in direct contravention of Rule 4, Subsection B2 governing use of time travel on under-developed planets and worlds not currently signatories to the Galactic Treaty."_

Steve stood, bewildered, in what closely resembled a blurry courtroom, flanked by shadowy and ill-defined figures and wondering how in hell he had got there.

The voice droned on:

"_Since this investigation concerns a member of a primitive race we will not ask Steven Rogers, henceforth known as the Defendant, to enter a plea at this time. This is a preliminary hearing to determine the immediate course of action to be undertaken while the precise facts of the matter are ascertained."_

Steve tried to speak but found he was unable to. The mist cleared a little around the large body directly in front of him and he was directly addressed:

"_The Defendant is hereby advised that his presence is purely for his own information during the initial proceedings. A member of the Council will be assigned to advise him in his defence and to make representation to the Court. Council for the Prosecution, do you have anything to say at this time?"_

"_Thank you Your Honour." _One of the taller shadowy outlines moved to the foreground of Steve's vision_. "We intend to show that the Accused has abused Earth's Timeline in order to impose himself on two battlefields some 67 years apart, an unnatural gap for a species amongst which the average life expectancy for a male is only 75 Earth years. The Defendant has achieved an age, according to his date of birth, of 94 years, and yet represents a physical age of only 26. May it please the Court, we petition such an anomaly can only have been achieved through means designed to impugn the very fibre of the purity of Time which we strive to uphold and demand that, despite the lack of previous offences among Humans, this matter and offence is dealt with in the severest terms possible for such an infraction."_

"_Quite, quite…"_ the Judge (Steve applied the term cautiously) seemed more than a little bored by the bluster, or possibly the case itself. _"Council for the Defence….has one been appointed?"_

"_Er…me, Your Honour," _the figure closest to Steve stepped forward. He (well it sounded male) was a little smaller than the others and, this close, Steve could see he was vaguely humanoid although his head, arms and legs appeared oddly elongated and he had an opaque, silvery skin which seemed a little…well….stretched over an angular bone structure. Steve shuddered as his only protection from this bizarre court seemed nervous and ill-prepared for his task.

"_Er…" _the character hadn't even looked in Steve's direction but he continued anyway, _"I've only just been assigned to the case Your Honour and, as such, am not fully familiar with all the facts but…" _he glanced round then appeared to gather himself a bit more fully _"I would like it recorded that the Council for the Prosecution's remarks appear to be attempting to pre-judge the case against my client when the precise circumstances of the alleged offence are far from clear and, as such, I would like to request they be struck from the record."_

Steve could have sworn he heard a loud _"tut"_ from the Judge. He clung feverishly to the belief this was all a really weird dream and decided he'd rather not think about what part of his brain had come up with the whole idea if it was.

Fortunately, his Defence Council appeared to be getting warmed up now and was starting to sound like he might have some clue what he was doing as he continued.

"_I would like to remind my colleagues that this is merely a preliminary hearing to decide on the initial course of action while ALL facts pertaining to the alleged incident are fully investigated and I would like to request a recess so that I can discuss matters with my client and gain a more complete understanding of his case."_

"_Agreed in principle," _the Judge all but sighed. _"However, since it is the Defendant's time in the Earth 21__st__ Century that is under scrutiny, we cannot return him to continue polluting what may be an erroneous timeline, nor is it possible for us to detain him here whilst investigations are ongoing."_

"_The Prosecution suggests that we remove the Defendant from the time period under contention: A little over three Earth months. It is unlikely that he has affected anything greatly during that time and he can easily be re-integrated should my colleague be successful in his Defence." _The last few words were laced with what Steve could only describe as derision.

"_May it please Your Honour, I would move that we should first extrapolate the most likely alternate timeline to occur should my client's presence in the Earth 21__st__ Century be deleted. As I have already stated, the case is far from clear and it would be wrong to be seen to react in an unfairly harsh manner simply because we are dealing with a primitive culture." _Steve's Defence Council seemed quite pleased with that last bit.

"_Oh well, if we must…" _Steve was most definitely getting the impression that the Judge really just wanted to get this all over with as quickly as possible. _"Run the calculations."_

There was some mumbling and grumbling from a dark mass that Steve had previously assumed to be some kind of wall in the murky fog of his surroundings but, now called into action, appeared to be a group of beings who were manipulating strands of the fog into coherent structures. They worked feverishly for a few minutes before one of them advised the Judge that they were ready.

"_Show us."_ The command was given.

One area of the mist resolved itself into an image of the newly rebuilt Stark Tower. New York around the tower was its usual busy, vibrant self; the skies were clear and blue and the streets teemed with people and cars.

"_We have based our calculations on the geographical location where the Defendant spends the highest proportion of his time during the period under scrutiny. This is how it appears in the existing timeline."_ The voice emanated from the mass of beings. A second area of mist started to form another image. _"Initial indications are that this alternate timeline is a 97% probability should the Defendant be deleted from the contested time period."_

There was an audible gasp from the courtroom participants. Stark Tower stood…barely: A mangled ruin among a devastated cityscape; the skies in the distance were red from flames and, more closely, plumes of smoke rose from those few buildings not completely destroyed already; not a soul stirred on the wreckage strewn streets. At the top of what remained of the tower, a light gleamed – the Tesseract – and, the only sign of movement, above it the portal was blown wide open with Chitauri flying in and out unchecked.

Steve stared at the scene, an overwhelming feeling of dread filling him at the sight: The Earth had fallen.

The Council for the Defence broke the shocked silence that had descended on the courtroom as he spoke slowly and cautiously.

"_May I urge that the court considers its next action with care. This is clearly a more complicated case than previously anticipated. We are here to ascertain whether whatever influence the Defendant may have had on events was obtained through illegal means, if it was then obviously we should take steps to ensure that the future is restored to what it should have been but we should not be overly keen to inflict such a future on a race of primitives whilst it is still possible that no illegal act has taken place."_

"_What do you suggest Council?"_

"_We are aware that humans are not sophisticated and, as such, are more than likely to simply dismiss any minor anomalies they may observe. Therefore I believe a continuance of the low-level existence suppression we put in place when the Defendant was summoned should be sufficient at this time with no need to change the timeline itself. The Defendant can be restrained within his normal place of residence and I can visit him there to keep him updated and develop the case for the Defence."_

"_Given the extreme nature of the change to the Earth's timeline should we do otherwise, I concur that seems a reasonable course of action in the circumstances. Any objection from the Prosecution?"_

The previously arrogant and combative Council for the Prosecution appeared to have been genuinely shocked by the level of influence one human had had in such a short time, either that or he realised going against the Judge's proclamation wouldn't win him any favours in the long run.

"_I believe Your Honour that my colleague's suggestion is appropriate given the situation, at least until the case against the Defendant is proven. I therefore agree with the proposed course of action for the time being."_

The Judge addressed Steve again.

"_The Defendant is hereby advised that he is to be returned to his normal place of abode where he will remain, subject to suitable restrictions to be advised. Memory and knowledge of his existence and participation in events during the contested period will be suppressed as will corporeal form and all physical interaction with his surroundings until this matter is resolved and judgement on the alleged offence has been passed. All communication between this court and the Defendant will be made via the Council for the Defence. Court adjourned."_

Steve found himself standing in the middle of his room back in Stark Tower…his completely empty room in Stark Tower. No furniture, no pictures…no shield….no evidence this room had ever been his.

"Jarvis?" he called hopefully. No answer.

Moving over to the door, he reached for the handle and watched as his hand passed straight through it.

"I'm a ghost?"

"_Not exactly."_ The voice came from behind him, turning he recognised the strange-looking alien who'd acted as his Defence Council earlier.

"Can you please tell me what's going on," Steve implored him, "who are you all anyway?"

"_I realise this must all be rather overwhelming," _the individual's tone was not unkind. _"I can't stay here long. I have a lot to do and I must admit I'm finding some of the circumstances surrounding this case more than a little disconcerting…"_

"Disconcerting? In what way?"

"_Let's just say the way in which this hearing has come about is…er…unusual. I just wanted to make sure you understand your situation for the moment and to get your side of the story."_

"My story? Well I didn't time-travel or anything like that. I crashed a plane into ice in 1945 and was frozen, they found me and thawed me out a little over 3 months ago."

"_Really…and is surviving such an event usual for a human?"_

"Er…no. I was injected with a serum that enhanced me physically and made me a kind of super-soldier in 1942. The scientists think it was the serum allowed me to survive."

"…_and is there anyway this was a planned effect of the serum?"_

"Not that I'm aware of. As I said its purpose was to make me stronger and faster to fight, not to survive being frozen."

"_Good…good. So you maintain your presence in the 21__st__ Century is accidental and there was no deliberate attempt to defraud or alter Time. We may need some more information on this serum since this seems to be the crux of the matter but I need to investigate further what information the Prosecution have. My colleague seemed particularly well-informed in comparison to myself."_

"He did," Steve agreed thinking back to the other Council's strident statement. "Is that what you mean by 'unusual'?"

"_In part, yes," _Steve took small comfort from the fact his representative did, at least, seem to have some interest in helping him. _"As guardians of the universal timelines we are habitually in what you would probably call a form of hibernation. Usually, when there is an infraction against Time we are all woken by the resonance of the timelines reshaping themselves but, on this occasion we were woken by one of our own number – the Prosecutor. This can only have happened if a direct complaint was issued from one of the Treaty members – I need to know who and what the specific nature of their complaint was."_

"Someone made a complaint?"

"_That's what I need to go and find out."_

"What about me?"

"_All you can do is wait for the moment. You will be limited to the residential floors of this building. You have no physical presence here and no-one is aware of your existence. We have arranged it so you will not sink through the floors as that would be very disorienting…"_

**Steve almost laughed out loud at his accusers being concerned about that being disorienting when they were perfectly happy to discuss deleting him from existence as if it was an everyday thing**

"…._but you can pass through all the internal walls to move around as you wish. Obviously not the external walls though. As a non-existent being you will not need sustenance of any kind so I suggest you just occupy yourself as best you can and I'll be back when I have more information on your case."_

"Is that it? Is that all I can do?"

"_Give some thought to any more information you might be able to give me on that serum, we're going to need to prove that your survival was completely unintentional beyond all doubt if we're to stand any chance."_

"Thanks for your help," Steve said with sad sincerity as his Council turned to leave. "Do you have a name? What can I call you?"

"_Call me Yustis, Steven Rogers."_ He seemed genuinely surprised and a little bit pleased by the question.

"Call me Steve and thanks again Yustis." He received what might have been an attempt at a smile as Yustis faded from sight and Steve was left alone.

Steve realised he was shaking. He wondered as to how it was he was accepting this situation so well before it occurred to him he was just numbed by the fact there simply wasn't any evidence to refute what was happening to him. Walking over to the door again, he marched straight at it and felt a pall of cold comprehension set in as he passed through it and found himself in the corridor.

It was clearly the early hours of the morning and the tower was silent. Steve often roamed the building at this time, unable to sleep and adrift in the alien landscape of the time in which he'd woken. Had he not seen the image of the alternate timeline, the one where he hadn't woken, he may have even considered his entire time in the 21st Century being deleted something of a merciful release; he'd never felt he belonged; he felt isolated and detached from those around him by knowledge and experience; he often felt the team he'd been pushed to lead at the least didn't actually need him and, at worst, probably resented him; he wasn't even sure that being erased from everyone's memories would make a great deal of difference to him if the truth were told, they largely ignored him most of the time anyway...

….Except….something he'd done since he'd woken up had prevented the horror he had witnessed. He didn't know what it was but something he'd done had made a difference. Yes, there was a 3% chance that wasn't how things would have turned out without him but Steve didn't like those odds much.

Now, whatever happened, and however much he was struggling to live in this new century and move on from what he'd lost, that alternate timeline could not be allowed to come about: He had to win his case!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you for the reviews and follows. To clarify, this is set a couple of months after the end of the movie.  
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**Chapter Two**

The night passed extraordinarily slowly for Steve.

Initially, he checked out the limits of what was, effectively, his prison cell: Unable to use the elevators, he found he could move from floor to floor among the residential and team floors of the tower via the staircases but found he was stopped abruptly from descending down to the office floors by some kind of invisible barrier. As Yustis had said, he was able to easily pass through the internal walls, though oddly he found he still naturally migrated to the doorways through force of habit, but attempts to push through the external walls saw him met by the same barrier that prevented him descending the stairs.

He paid a visit to the additional gym Tony had added during the rebuild specifically for him. The modern, technologically advanced equipment of the main gym had been eschewed in favour of more traditional accoutrements and reinforced beams to hold his specially designed punching bags: All gone.

Steve was saddened by the sight, it was one of the few places he'd felt truly at ease in his new world and now there stood just an empty room.

It figured, you couldn't remove rooms from the Tower without replacing them with something, but clearly the Time Guardians (he had no idea what they called themselves but that would do as a name until he had a chance to find out) thought it sufficient to just empty them and assume most humans wouldn't worry about it: As a broad generalisation of modern humans they would probably be right but Steve couldn't help wondering if they might have underestimated the Avengers; they were, after all, hardly typical.

Steve couldn't help but think how Tony's kindness in creating that place for him during the redesign of the tower had been a welcome gesture and a reminder that the man was a lot more than he generally showed and certainly more than Steve himself had originally assumed – although his attempts at expressing his gratitude to his host for the thought had been rebuffed in a way that only served to confuse his opinion once again.

He spent the remainder of the night at the large floor-to-ceiling window in the main lounge, looking out over the city skyline before him, he tried to rid himself of the image of it burned and ruined beyond recognition without success.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to be? Maybe humans had relinquished their right to exist through their constant fighting one another and it was time for them to move on as the dinosaurs had before them? For a brief moment, Steve considered that he'd had no right to be there and disrupt the ordained fate of the planet….but he swiftly dismissed that line of thought: It wasn't in his nature to give credence to that kind of thinking: That the human race deserved its place in the universe was non-negotiable as far as he was concerned and he knew within himself that he would endure whatever pain it caused him to continue his existence in this century if it meant that place was preserved.

He tried to remember everything anyone had told him back in 1942 about the anticipated effects of the serum: He felt reasonably sure that no-one had had any inkling that, under a very specific set of circumstances it could cause him to go into suspended animation – surely that made him innocent of the accusation? But how could he prove it? He couldn't be absolutely certain what anyone 70 years ago really knew or thought. He wondered if the Court would say that ignorance did not excuse guilt, maybe he could strike a bargain and voluntarily surrender his existence after the Battle of Manhattan after the portal had been closed?

He thought back to Yustis' remark during the hearing about his existence being suppressed when he was summoned which effectively meant no-one had missed him for as long as he'd been gone, however long that was. He tried to remember what he had been doing and, eventually, it came to him: He'd been in the car with Tony on the way to the jet, they'd been summoned to some kind of conference and were due to be gone for around 24 hours.

He recalled that neither of them had been looking forward to it. Whilst they were now generally able to maintain basic civility towards one another most of the time, they were hardly what you might call friends. Tony had spent the entire journey on his phone and Steve had looked out of the window hoping to spot a familiar location or building: Steve laughed mirthlessly at the thought that the Time Guardians could have saved themselves the time and trouble of suppressing his existence, Tony was so engrossed in whatever he was doing he probably wouldn't have noticed if Steve had grown a second head let alone disappeared.

He wondered whether that was yesterday or, indeed, it could have been weeks ago for all he knew. Without access to any of the means by which he would normally check the time and date he had no other choice but to wait for the others, whoever was there, to wake up.

Finally, when the sun was already pouring into the lounge, he heard movement in the vicinity of the bedrooms. He rose from his seat at the window and made his way to the kitchen knowing that was always the first stop in the mornings for the tower residents.

A sleepy-looking Clint shuffled in, scratching his head and yawning: He looked straight at the coffee-maker, empty and not yet cleaned from yesterday. His face bore a look of frustration. He halted so suddenly Natasha almost walked into the back of him.

"Jarvis, why is there no coffee?" Clint's tone was confused.

"Presumably because no-one's made it…" Natasha supplied helpfully making her way to the fridge and pouring herself a juice.

"Jarvis?" Clint asked again.

"I am unable to supply an answer to that question Sir." Jarvis replied, a distinct tone of discomfort evident in the statement.

"But there's always coffee," Clint was pretty much whining. "We come in and the coffee-maker's clean and the coffee's made. Who does it Jarvis?"

"As I already stated, I am unable to supply an answer to that question. I am attempting to locate the information but it is not there." Jarvis sounded positively…concerned. "I shall run a full diagnostic to determine why that data is unavailable."

Clint and Natasha exchanged worried glances. There was no way anything could happen in the tower without Jarvis being aware of it.

"_At least I'm good for something,_" Steve thought. It was his morning ritual after his run to clean the coffee-maker and set it going for the morning's supply. He batted desolately at the machine with his hand and saw it pass straight through the familiar gadget.

Clint's initial reaction was to scowl at the coffee-maker and wait for the mystery operator to turn up and do the job – his face a picture of abject misery. Natasha chuckled at his expression but was as mystified as he was: How was it neither of them knew who habitually made the coffee?

Things didn't get any better when Bruce finally strolled in. Engrossed in a science paper he snatched a mug from the shelf and placed it on the counter then simply lifted the coffee pot from its perch without even looking and attempted to pour from the empty, dirty jug for several seconds before it occurred to him nothing was coming out.

He looked around questioningly only to be met by blank looks from the other occupants of the kitchen.

It was finally decided that, bizarre as it may seem, it MUST be Tony who usually makes the coffee (after all, Thor wasn't there a lot of the time and he was an absolute menace with kitchen equipment) so Clint and Bruce set to in an attempt to resolve their caffeine crisis. It took a while – as with everything Tony owned, the coffee maker was the most sophisticated money could buy and suitably complicated as a result - but they finally managed to get a rather anaemic-looking brew filtering through to the jug (which they forgot to wash): The grimaces which met the finished product suggested it wasn't up to the standards they'd come to expect.

There had been many times since waking up in the 21st Century when Steve had felt lost, useless or lonely but on this occasion he experienced all three sensations simultaneously: Natasha had given up on breakfast and, having finished her normal ration of cereal and juice, went to the gym; Clint stared in the fridge at the abundant supplies of bacon and eggs and remembered having that as his regular breakfast before wondering (loudly) how it was they ever got cooked as neither he nor Bruce knew the location of the pans.

Jarvis, when asked, advised that he was still running the diagnostic and that he was unable to supply any further information on the identity of the mysterious breakfast cook: He was, however, able to direct them to the location of the pans – in light of the coffee debacle they declined.

"_I guess this is what it's like to be a ghost – not existing at all is probably a whole lot less frustrating" _Steve mused, immediately feeling guilty for that thought remembering that there was a high degree of likelihood that if that were the case the two people he was looking at and most of the rest of the population of New York would probably be dead.

He had started to long for Yustis to come back just for someone to talk to when he considered how many breakfasts he'd cooked where he'd barely exchanged more than six words with the two men currently having to make do with cereal and toast – and most of those words had consisted of nothing more complex than "more?", "coffee?" and "thanks". _"Don't know what I'm getting so uptight about, I'm not sure I was even existing before" _he thought miserably.

* * *

Tony was irritable.

As Happy ferried him back to the tower he realised he'd spent the last 24 hours being the "Face of the Avengers" and throughout the entire time he'd had the feeling that wasn't how it was supposed to be, like he'd forgotten something important.

In truth, Tony "forgot" stuff all the time (meetings he didn't want to go to, birthdays or other celebrations he could easily make up for with an expensive present, pretty much anything official involving the Government or SHIELD) but it was almost invariably on purpose because he had something more important or interesting he wanted to do and had very little desire to remember the thing in the first place: This didn't feel like he'd forgotten a thing, it was as if he'd forgotten how things were meant to be and, more worryingly still, no-one else seemed to have noticed.

As a rule Tony didn't do feelings; he did awkward, niggling, unable to pinpoint, suspicious feelings even less: And when those kind of feelings persisted for as long as these had it left him feeling irritable and more than a little disquieted!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks for the lovely encouraging reviews. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Three**

Tony stalked into the main lounge back at Stark Tower a little after 2pm.

Jarvis welcomed him back whilst advising that Natasha and Clint had decided to go out in search of food that didn't require any effort on their part (Jarvis' words) and Bruce had retired to his room with some reading: The lounge was deserted.

Tony needed a drink.

What he did not need as he headed towards the bar was to get the distinct impression he'd just seen a ghost!

For a split second, before he turned and looked directly towards the window, he could've sworn he'd seen a tall blonde man standing, staring at him.

"I'm losing it…I've lost it…finally…" he muttered as he grabbed the nearest bottle and a crystal tumbler and began to pour a hefty measure.

Steve moved from his place by the window and approached Tony, he wasn't sure what to make of the genius' reaction but he could have sworn for a brief moment the man had looked…startled?...when he'd glanced in his direction.

"_Tony…can you see me?"_

Tony downed the first glass in one and certainly did not appear to have heard anything: He refilled the glass and held it, lovingly, staring into the golden liquid as he swirled it gently in the crystal.

Steve frowned, he was sure Tony had seen something…..perhaps he was just clutching at straws?

"So J….what's new?" Tony flicked his eyes slightly skyward, "Saw you were running a diagnostic…got a problem?"

"There appear to be some incongruities in my data banks Sir. I have run a full diagnostic and everything appears to be functioning normally, however some files are….wrong." there was an audible hitch in the AI's vocal processors at that point. "I do apologise for being unable to be more specific but there are anomalies which I am unable to isolate. It is most perplexing."

Tony anxiously pulled up the interactive screen on the nearest surface and started to analyse Jarvis' databanks: "Wrong? You're a computer J: Computers aren't vague. That's impossible. What information's affected?" he asked.

"I can only tell when I access individual files. Security video files appear to be most commonly affected though: The problem was discovered when I was unable to ascertain who has typically been responsible for the morning supply of coffee in the kitchen." Tony could have sworn there was a hint of embarrassment in the AI's tone.

"…and?"

"Mr Barton and Dr Banner….improvised: It was not particularly successful."

"What? Do you mean there was no coffee?" Tony was in a borderline state of panic. If there was one substance more essential in his life than alcohol, it was coffee. In fact it was more than possible, were a needle to be inserted into him, that, amongst the caffeine, alcohol and blood cells the platelets would be in the minority.

_"Great! The future of the World is at stake and everyone's preoccupied with coffee." _Steve stopped himself from rolling his eyes – after all, what's the point if no-one can see you?

"How can we not know who makes the coffee? This is serious! What other files are affected?"

"I am only able to establish that on a file-by-file basis but the problem does appear to be extensive, covering internal security videos and some interaction records with both yourself and other residents of the Tower. If it is a virus, it is of a completely unknown type and origin. I should also inform you that my internal scans suggest we have two rooms within the residential area which are empty and serve no purpose. I am at a loss to explain how this has not been noted previously."

Tony was now so gravely concerned he temporarily abandoned his alcohol.

"We've got what? I only rebuilt the place in the last few weeks, how've we got rooms with no purpose? Where are these rooms?"

"One is located among the sleeping accommodation, the other adjacent to the main gymnasium." Jarvis must have been working on his apologetic tone all day, Tony reflected.

"_Enough with the weirdness," _Tony thought. _"I don't do anything without a purpose; Jarvis doesn't describe things as 'wrong'; I certainly don't create rooms for no reason in my new purpose-built Avengers Tower: And I don't FORGET STUFF!" _

He swivelled round on his bar stool and, briefly, saw the figure again. This time it was sitting, cross-legged, chin rested on knuckles and gazing at him…blue eyes….familiar….and gone once more when he looked directly at it.

"What have I missed? Am I being haunted?" There was an unusually nervous tone to the billionaire's voice as he spoke to the empty room.

"_Not haunted Tony. But you can see me…a bit at least. Why? Why you? Half the time you don't see me when I'm actually there, so why now?"_

Tony stood and headed to the elevator, clutching the bottle and half-filled glass; "Jarvis, commence full environmental analysis of the tower and get Bruce to join me in the lab, I could use his mind on this."

"Scan commenced, Sir. These anomalous occurrences are most worrisome."

"That's understatement of the century…." Tony mumbled as he entered the lift, momentarily reconsidering his extremely brief flirtation with abstinence and downing the contents of his glass.

Steve followed him into the lift and to the lab. He'd only ever entered Tony and Bruce's inner sanctum on very specific Avengers-related business and he certainly hadn't spent any amount of time in there (it felt far too much like intruding) but now he needed to see what Tony was going to do: Unlike the others he could at least see that something had happened and whatever he might feel about the man personally, at times, the extent of his genius was undisputed. If any man on Earth could figure out what, if anything, they could do about this it had to be him.

"Jarvis, any results yet?" Tony asked en route.

"Preliminary scans indicate there are no abnormal readings within the building. However, I will subject the results to greater scrutiny to be certain – it is likely to take some time."

"Keep me updated and route a list of all 'wrong' _(Tony winced inwardly at the use of the word)_ files discovered so far to the lab."

"Certainly, Sir."

Steve crouched in the corner. For a moment he almost forgot his situation and leaned back but gathered himself before he fell through the wall. As ever, he found himself fascinated watching Tony manipulate files on his holographic interface with the ease of an artist inspired; he'd yet to tire of watching someone so in-tune with the same technology that so intimidated him.

Bruce sauntered in a couple of minutes later.

"You wanted me?"

Tony had located the specific file he was searching for by time and location and was scanning through but paused playback to ask:

"So…I heard there was a coffee shortage this morning?"

"Yeah, you'll have to show us how to use that machine of yours…ended up sending out for a drinkable cup…" Bruce laughed.

"I've no idea how to use it," Tony was deliberately nonchalant, "It was bought new during the rebuild and I've never needed to learn yet."

"Really? That's kinda odd…." Bruce's voice tailed off as though distracted before brightening and asking, "how was your conference?"

Tony regarded him curiously, usually Bruce's scientific mind would be all over any kind of puzzle or mystery. "So….it's not bothering you?"

"So what's not bothering me? ….What do you need help with?"

"Trying to find out who made the coffee every morning till today…"

"Why? It's only coffee, we'll figure the coffee maker out with practise." Bruce seemed unable or unwilling to grasp Tony's not unreasonable concern that someone unknown had been in his home and even his AI didn't know who it was. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to your er….whatever…I've got papers to annotate." He glanced at the bottle of whisky and glass on the workbench before adding: "Go easy on that stuff," then left the room without another word.

Astonishment was a rare sensation for Tony Stark to experience but realising an intellect almost as keen as his own was capable of being distracted with such apparent ease was both alarming and admirable in a sense: _"OK…when I find out whatever it is that's doing this, I need to figure out how to use it on my Board Members."_ More to the point, why was he immune?

One out of him and Bruce was acting uncharacteristically and Tony Stark was NEVER wrong, he knew it wasn't him!

He cued up the video of the kitchen area for early morning, yesterday and watched with care, half-speed…

…and nothing…

…or was there..?

It was like the barely glimpsed sense there was someone in his lounge…he almost had to catch the video playback unawares in order to realise there was a point the coffee jug went from empty and uninviting to full and tempting: As if he had to force the realisation on himself that somehow it had happened – then, with a concerted effort to focus on it, he noticed the time-stamp jumping through phases of time unexpectedly…and eventually, momentarily, on a sixth time of watching…a tall, blond figure appeared randomly, briefly but distinctly….before vanishing again.

"Got you…" Tony breathed.

"Sir, Director Fury is on the line, he says it's urgent." Jarvis informed him.

"_Great timing Cyclops." _Tony thought, glancing at the time, _"calling after 6pm?"_

"Really honey? A little late to be calling for a dinner date….I might have already made arrangements". Tony batted his eyelashes as the Director's face resolved onscreen: The man bore the exasperated expression of someone who was finding it hard to believe this was the leader of his elite response team.

"_Well that makes two of us then."_ Tony's own mind responded.

"We've got an incident in the city Stark. Nothing major but the police are nervous because there seems to be some kind of energy-based weaponry involved: Barton and Romanoff are already on their way – we need you to analyse and neutralise what they're using - minimise risk to people and property. If you involve Banner, it's only as Banner: Understood?"

Tony sighed. There had been a few of these lately: Everyone in New York had been apprehensive since a good portion of the city had been flattened by aliens during the Chitauri incident and, as a result, the Avengers were being called in as soon as anything slightly out of the ordinary happened.

Deploying them like this did, at least, help to keep people's mind off the cost of reparations and reinforce the value of the Avengers to the populace (SHIELD hoped these petty missions would become less necessary after a while) but, in the meantime, it was all pretty tedious and Tony, particularly, didn't see it as a good use of his (very) valuable time: In fact, he had a strong sense he often didn't get involved with these "PR" missions at all.

Tony swiped the file icon for the briefing attachment and scanned it superficially, unaware that Steve was by his side also absorbing the mission notes.

"Will be there shortly," he nodded to Fury and closed communication.

Tony prepped his suit and forwarded everything to Bruce with instructions to get himself to a suitable distance from the incident for observation purposes only and to let him know when he was in position.

He also chose to ignore the uneasy feeling he had that this was not how they usually operated as he headed off unaware that his malaise was shared by a concerned Captain.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Updates may be irregular over the next couple of weeks - real life's having its say again. Will update when I can.  
**

**Thanks once again for the reviews and follows.  
**

**Pseudo-science alert for the end of this chapter: I work on the Star Trek principle of "state it with conviction and hope everyone's invested enough in the story not to care it's nothing more than a blatant plot device" - you have been warned.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Steve paced the area by the lounge window watching the flashing lights and explosions in the distance.

He was worried: He'd read the mission briefing and knew it should be straightforward but – assuming SHIELD's intel was correct – it was actually too straightforward an incident to deploy Iron Man, at least initially.

There had been some debate originally as to the value of the team undertaking such minor missions; whilst real-life situations with some element of risk were considerably more valuable for developing teamwork than training simulations could ever be, it had been equally important to prevent the appearance that the city was operating a "sledgehammer versus nut" type of response to problems.

Generally speaking, the compromise had been to employ the "big guns", namely Iron Man and Hulk (only when there was no alternative), of the team sparingly. On the whole, it had worked well and had earned the team a lot of very positive press attention which, in turn, had calmed down some of the earlier panic-mongering about their presence in the city: A development Nick Fury was most certainly not ungrateful for.

But tonight, it was that very compromise – one that had seemed so pragmatic at the time – that was worrying Steve: He knew the individuals that made up his team were very capable…but, unfortunately, they were also still capable of forgetting they were a team.

A roar in the distance and a rising dust cloud from a building hit by an immense force saw Steve tense and move as close to the outside world as his imprisoning barrier would allow.

He gritted his teeth and desperately regretted his inability to hit something. Under normal circumstances he would have had Tony monitoring the situation from the air and feeding the team updates and information; circling the area covering the team's backs; and providing the pyrotechnics and extra power should the need arise for them to look a bit more "impressive". Based on the mission briefing, the risk of having Bruce there vastly outweighed any potential benefits.

Steve's frustration with his powerlessness overwhelmed him and he slumped to the floor, waiting and hoping that none of his team or anyone else paid an unacceptable price for his present situation.

It was well after midnight when the tired Avengers trouped back through the door. Bloodied and bruised but, the Captain was relieved to see, with no major injuries. Tony was assisting an exhausted and disoriented Bruce, his suit was battered and scratched but showed no major damage; Natasha and Clint seemed to have sustained only cuts and bruises.

They gathered in the lounge, tired and demoralised. Tony removed the suit and initiated auto-repair before dispensing post-battle pick-me-ups from the bar as was the norm.

They switched on the TV: The news reports were full of the chaotic response that had left 27 people requiring hospital treatment (mercifully all with relatively minor injuries – one man had a broken leg and concussion but that seemed to be the worst of it).

Steve moved among the group, picking up snippets of conversation and comments and piecing together what had transpired.

"What the hell happened? We're so much better than that." Clint complained, wincing as he cleaned a large, bloodied area on his arm and discovered a significant area of skin missing.

"We looked like amateurs," Natasha scowled in an unusually candid response that revealed the level of her displeasure.

It became clear that Fury had already expressed his annoyance at the evening's events: Apparently a cluster of small flying robots armed with low-level weaponry, designed more to create panic than cause actual harm, had been released at a well-attended charity gala – ironically, one that Tony had withdrawn from after the order to attend the conference had been received.

With so many dignitaries and public figures in attendance, the significant response of the police (and subsequently the Avengers) had provided excellent cover for a well-planned raid on an innocuous but nonetheless secure establishment several blocks away that just happened to be a major storage facility for diamonds.

Tony's being limited to more ground-based activities meant he'd not been able to monitor the area effectively and the team had all realised too late what was really happening. Fortunately, the thieves had been apprehended but rather more due to their plan backfiring than anything the Avengers did (as a further diversion, the miscreants released another swarm of their annoying flying robots close to Bruce's location and suffered the consequences).

Whilst, in essence, the mission had been successful, there seemed to have been rather more luck involved in the outcome than anyone would have wanted. Certainly, the media reaction to the level of collateral damage and the injury count appeared to brand their performance unacceptable: Reports were phrased to suggest the blame lay with a poorly organised evacuation of civilians from the gala and the destruction of property caused by the Hulk. All in all the Avengers had been a shadow of the normally slick outfit they'd begun to pride themselves in being and the execution of their response had been – for want of a better word - untidy.

Steve, having reassured himself that everyone would be OK, had sat down within the semi-circle formed by the couches – anxious to be as much a part of the team as his situation allowed: He was relieved to see there was no blaming or recrimination among the group, the fact was no-one had actually done anything wrong - they just hadn't been able to work to their strengths.

He noted, however, that Natasha and Clint were unusually vocal, their personal and professional pride clearly stung; he felt angry that Bruce had been put in such an unnecessary situation and anguish at the pain and exhaustion that caused him; but, most of all, he watched Tony's considered lack of reaction to the whole thing as though his mind were elsewhere.

Clint was the first to retire.

"We'll do better next time. We just weren't on our game tonight."

Tony quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't respond. Natasha left the lounge shortly after with just a curt (but not unfriendly) nod towards Tony and an almost soft, sympathetic look at Bruce now curled up asleep on the sofa.

Tony drained the remainder of his drink and stood up. He paused briefly to drape a throw over the dormant scientist - Steve smiled slightly at the gentle act of kindness knowing the man would never act in such a way if he knew he was being watched – before heading to the elevator and back to his lab unaware he had company.

* * *

It was well into the early hours of the morning when Tony strode into the lab:

"Jarvis, you'd better have something for me – I may be crazy but I'm not mad!"

"I believe my in-depth analysis of the scans may have uncovered something Sir."

"Show me what you've got…"

A holographic display appeared showing a series of figures and what, to Steve, looked like little more than a wavy line – _"a radio wave?" _he wondered.

Tony stepped forward, his extraordinarily sharp mind processing what he saw.

"It's the power signature for the main arc reactor….but what's that?" He demanded of his AI, tracing a barely visible second line with his finger, it mimicked almost exactly the same path as the principle line although slightly out of sync. However, it was obviously slightly faster as occasionally it transected the stronger line in the graph.

"It appears to be indicative of some form of energy slightly out of phase with what we are able to see or normally detect. It only shows when all readings are subjected to spectral analysis Sir. I am unsure of its purpose but the residential floors are flooded with it."

"Show me…"

A holographic wire-frame representation of the tower appeared. The sources of the strange energy signature had been transposed onto it. Solid lines appeared delineating the floors themselves and surrounded all the residential levels including the external walls; a more fluid version of the same signature filled two distinct rooms within the same area; and finally, a smaller swirling mass of energy appeared at varying levels of density throughout the area but principally concentrated in the lounge…and the lab.

"_That's me…"_

"Explain." Tony commanded, there was an edge to his voice that had not been there before.

"Unfortunately I am unable to," Jarvis had that apologetic tone again. "There are three distinct manifestations of the phased energy signature which appear to perform different purposes but I am at a loss to explain what those purposes are."

"Any indication they're harmful?"

"Not so far Sir"

Tony regarded the hologram a few more moments before drawing up a series of complex numbers and analysing them silently and intently.

"The Type 3 signature is a decaying output?"

"Indeed Sir, it appears to slowly dissipate over approximately a 12 hour period."

"Where is the most recent signature located?" Tony already knew the answer from his own analysis of the data but he needed confirmation in order to believe it.

"Approximately 1.2 metres to your right, Sir."

Tony, almost unknowingly, brought his hand up to touch the arc reactor nestled in his chest – the thing he both cherished and loathed simultaneously but that might hold to key to his "ghost-sightings" – a couple of swipes of his other hand and a third line appeared on the holographic graph, identical in pattern but weaker than that of the main arc reactor.

"Jarvis, correlate the pattern of the phased signal with the energy output of my personal reactor. Advise when the two will coincide."

"The two signals will converge in 21.2 seconds."

"Has the Type 3 current location changed?"

"No"

Tony turned and faced the area to his right.

"How long does convergence last?"

"Less than 0.5 seconds."

"Don't move…" he urged to empty space. "Countdown from 10 Jarvis."

"10….9….8...7…..6…"

Tony forced himself not to blink which meant he was immediately overwhelmed with the desire to do so – he ignored it.

"…4….3….2….1….0"

For a split second Tony saw a tall blond man looking straight at him…and then he was gone.

Staring at the empty space Tony exhaled a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Somewhere deep inside him he knew that he knew who this person was and, more importantly, he knew that this individual was the answer to what had been missing from his life for the last 36 hours.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N OK, bonus. Didn't expect to get this done so quick but had an unexpected amount of free time today and it was one of the easier chapters to write. It's slightly shorter than I normally like but it ends at a very natural point in the story so hopefully it works OK.  
**

**As always, my thanks for reviews and follows. All very much appreciated.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"Jarvis…is there any coffee worthy of the name anywhere in the tower at the moment?"

"Judging by Mr Barton and Dr Banner's earlier reactions, I would say not Sir."

"Find any place in the city that's open and can deliver me a large pot of decent coffee. Pay them whatever it takes to get it here five minutes ago."

"I will do what I can Sir"

Steve never ceased to marvel at the way a machine could understand Tony's abstract instructions – most of the time they barely made sense to human beings.

"It's going to be a long night," Tony was addressing the area where Steve had been stood just a few short moments ago so Steve went back and stood there – he knew it didn't really make any difference but it felt rude not to.

"So….invisible man….who are you?" Tony's gaze was shifting between where Steve was standing and the holographic screen; it was clear his thoughts were churning all the data he had so far as he drew up various analyses and figures…. "I don't know if you can hear me…"

"_Oh I can Tony. We need to be careful here, this may be the longest conversation we've ever had. Trust you to get chatty when I can't answer back."_

"…..but I'm guessing that, since it's you who's been making the coffee around here, you've had ample opportunity to harm us if that was your intention…."

"_Can't fault that logic. Who knew coffee was so important?"_

"…and judging by the mess we made last night, I think you may do a lot more than just make the coffee around here…"

"_While I can't deny that's nice to hear, you should stop now or you're going to be seriously embarrassed when you do remember."_

"….so why's someone or something gone to so much trouble to hide you? Why can't I remember? They've got some serious tech at work here…."

"_Believe me, I'm dying to tell you and there's a lot more than coffee at stake."_

Tony suddenly stilled as though something had occurred to him. He turned to the screen and began to run calculations. He worked furiously, completely absorbed in what he was doing before, finally, a sweep of his hand sent the information from the one screen to a 3D image of the Iron Man suit, overlaying the chest plate and arc reactor with what looked like an additional component of some kind, a little (to Steve's eyes) like a camera lens suspended in an intricate frame.

"Jarvis, run device simulation on the data from the phased signature. How long till auto-repair is complete?" he frowned, "….And where's my coffee?"

"Running simulation: 3 minutes to completion. Auto-repair: 1 hour 14 minutes to completion. Coffee arriving now, Sir."

"Good work J, you're a life-saver." Tony said as Dummy approached clutching a large thermal jug of much-needed caffeine. "Drop that Dummy and I'm reprogramming you as a toaster and giving you to Thor." The machine gave an alarmed squawk and slowed its movements to be doubly sure of keeping the coffee safe.

The genius showed a distinct lack of intelligence as he grabbed a stained coffee cup and wiped it around with a cloth that looked far from clean itself before snatching the jug from Dummy and pouring from it: He took a large gulp.

"_How have you never poisoned yourself Tony?"_

Results from the simulation started to display on the screen: Tony scanned them, made some adjustments and re-ran the tests. He refilled the filthy mug and, stopping only to take another mouthful of coffee from time-to-time, feverishly worked on the elements of whatever he was creating to add to the suit.

Finally, he seemed to get the outcome he wanted. He removed the additional element from the holographic suit and split the virtual representation into its component parts – separating some of them out, he instructed Jarvis to process these via his automated production system for immediate manufacture as specified. Looking at the remainder, he hunted around the lab, picking up a variety of objects as he went: A variety of wires and other materials, a soldering iron and several screwdrivers were amassed, which he then placed on the workbench.

Another swift hand movement on a different area of the holographic representation brought back up the scan of the phased energy signatures throughout the tower – homing in on the lab area he noticed that his unknown companion had moved around to the other side of the workbench. He turned to face it.

"Well it looks like I've got your attention."

"_It's not like I've got anywhere else to be – not for the moment at any rate."_ Despite the progress Tony had made through the night, Steve was becoming increasingly anxious that it was only a matter of time before Yustis returned to collect him for his hearing and he hoped desperately he'd have a chance to communicate what was happening before that occurred.

More than that, he'd spent the last two hours watching how Tony worked, his amazement and admiration growing exponentially with every passing moment. Having never previously had the chance to watch the inventor in his true environment, he had to admit it was a genuine privilege to actually see the man being the genius he always boasted he was: He sincerely wanted to have more opportunities to do so again in the future, all assuming he (and the World) had one.

Tony was progressing with the construction; his hands worked furiously as he built his creation. He started to describe his thought processes and the theory behind what he was doing: When he got to what he considered to be a particularly exciting bit he started to wave his hands around wildly as though sketching his thoughts in the air.…

"_You might want to be careful with that screwdriver…"_

"Oh shit!"

"…_.told you to be careful."_

Blood mopped up with the dirty cloth used to wipe the coffee cup and a bit of paper towel functioning as (what Steve hoped, but doubted, was) a temporary bandage, the now slightly less animated description of what he was doing continued.

Steve understood about two words in five.

"_You really don't remember me do you Tony?"_

It seemed to Steve as if Tony's arc reactor was acting a bit like a TV antenna swaying in the wind; once in a while it was in the right place to pick up a signal and that's when he became visible briefly. Tony was trying to create an adapter that would keep some of the output from the reactor focussed in the right place – with the suit acting as an insulator so Tony himself was protected from the changed frequency: "No use creating something to see what's going on if the process kills me" he grinned.

"_I think we can both agree that would be preferable."_

His theory was that the specific nature of the "Type 3 signature" (Steve eventually realised that meant him) effectively suppressed all knowledge, both physical evidence and memory, of whatever it was hiding….Tony likened his gadget to swapping a solid wall for glass, it wouldn't disable the barrier but he should at least be able to see through it.

"_You're the genius Tony, I hope you're right."_

Dawn had long since broken and daylight was starting to stream in through the small secured windows that ran around the top of the lab. Tony had been awake for close to 24 hours straight and was running purely on caffeine and the adrenaline of invention: Steve found himself concerned and grateful (on this occasion) for the fact this was pretty much normal behaviour for him.

Finally, shortly after 6.30am, the new addition to the suit was completed as Tony clipped the last elements of the frame into position. Donning his suit but not closing the faceplate, he lifted the object from the workbench and clipped it on to the front of the chest plate. He carefully attached the specially designed connectors and made sure they were properly engaged.

After a couple of minor adjustments and checks, he began the power-up sequence on what he'd termed a 'phase modulator'; he watched carefully as it homed in on its assigned frequency whilst Jarvis was monitored for any feedback that might disrupt his creator's arc reactor with orders to disable the device immediately should that happen.

"Signals aligned Sir."

"I know," breathed Tony as the image of the man he'd seen only in brief instants previously stood before him. The figure was translucent, like a ghost, but the image was clear and he was looking back at him with an expression that seemed to be a mix of concern and hope.

And then his senses were assaulted by an array of memories, flooding back one after another…

…a shield…

…blue…red…white…

…fighting…

…arguments…

…orders…

…a leader…

…a friend?

Shaking his head slightly to clear it a little of the onslaught of images vying for his immediate attention. He looked straight at the man and said:

"Cap?"

"_Are you alright Tony?"_

"Steve. Yeah, I'm…er…fine. But what the hell happened to you?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay in updating, had a bit of a week from hell. On the plus side, this one's a bumper chapter - on the negative side, there's a lot of exposition in this one that might make it drag a bit but should all pay off in the next couple of chapters which hopefully won't be quite such a struggle to write.  
**

**Thanks once more for the reviews and follows, all appreciated. I'm sorry I don't get around to replying to them but if I did it would be even longer between updates.  
**

**Chapter Six**

Tony listened intently as Steve filled him in on the events of the last 36 hours from his perspective. His reactions raced through disbelieving, on to horrified and then took the shortcut directly to outrage, anger and a strong desire to blow something up.

"This is utter bullshit! It's completely insane! How the hell can they think there was anything deliberate about you getting frozen for 67 years? After all, isn't time-travel supposed to be instant? I mean, there were people testing cryogenics over 30 years ago, what if that had worked? Would these bureaucrats be hunting down previously frozen plastic surgeons? Eradicating them from time? Hollywood would be full of people with wonky noses and no chin! Or, bankers? OK, so we wouldn't care if they never existed….but even so…"

"_Tony…."_

"…and who complained? How on Earth _DO_ you complain? I mean is there a Time Crime Hotline or something?"

"_Tony…."_

"…It's just ludicrous. Worse than that, it's malicious. It's a trumped up…"

"_TONY!"_

"Er…yes?"

"_It's pretty irrelevant what either of us think of the charge, the fact is it's been made. Yustis, my defence council, is looking into the source of the complaint. He seems on the level. All I can do at the moment is to try and prove there was no intention or expectation that this could happen when I was given the serum. Hopefully, they'll see reason."_

"…and if they don't?"

"_Then perhaps they can be encouraged to be lenient and not punish the Earth for my ignorance: First offence and all."_ Steve smiled ruefully.

Tony gave him an odd look at that remark, hoping he wasn't considering anything rash. Rather than entertain that notion, given they knew little about the workings of the Time Council, he decided not to pursue the matter at the moment and focus on what they could do instead.

"Well…OK…from what I remember when I went through all the files on the Project Rebirth, they were really only considering the physical enhancements from the point of view of fighting the War."

"_You've read the files?"_

"Trust me, my Dad had absolutely everything about that Project, including stuff SSR and SHIELD knew nothing about – I know, I hacked what they've got on file and it's nothing compared to what's in the Stark Archive. I read through when I had it all scanned and documented a few years ago before everything went into storage."

"_If there's that much, won't it take a while to sift through it?"_

Tony grinned. "Jarvis, access all files in the Captain America Archive. I want a summary detailing and cross-referencing any and all notes mentioning the actual, anticipated or possible effects of the serum. Pay specific attention to anything concerning life-expectancy, mortality and resilience."

"_Sorry. Still haven't got used to that." _Steve smiled back apologetically.

"No problem Cap. You've got a few things on your mind." Tony's manner was unusually kind and reassuring.

"_Just a few,"_ Steve replied softly.

"The report will take a little time to compile Sir. Some of the files are in an older format which will require indexing."

Tony used the excuse of Jarvis' interruption to change the pace of the conversation before they could both start to dwell too much on the possible ramifications of the situation. He stood up and expanded the wireframe of the tower showing the area of the alien energy signatures. Looking at what had been titled the Type 2 signatures, located in specific areas only, he spotted something he hadn't noticed before – one small additional area in the basement garage…Tony was curious and more than a little concerned: Now his memory had returned, he knew exactly what the other two were hiding…but this one?

"While we wait for the report, let's go have a look at how these guys play hide and go seek. The matrix they must be using to do this is amazing, as soon as we get you back safe I'm going to spend some time seeing if I can create anything close to it."

Steve was taken aback by that, did Tony Stark just put him ahead of a technology-related project? He obviously wasn't quick enough to compose his features because the metal-suited billionaire just shook his head and said with a rare degree of sincerity:

"Right now, I only have one priority – you!" Then, aware of the temporary loss of his carefully constructed façade, he grinned and added: "Damned if I'm gonna drink that muck Barton calls coffee."

"_Can't face the end of the World without coffee."_ Steve smiled, anxious not to make this new, improved version of Stark Junior feel in any way embarrassed by his slip into humanity: But Tony noted the lack of irritation in the Captain's tone and a clear indication in his eyes that he appreciated the support. He found himself surprised by how content he felt at the approbation.

"No coffee_ IS_ the end of the world Cap." Tony smiled back.

Steve couldn't resist the slight grin at the exchange creeping across his face as he followed the man out of the lab: After all, they said it was an ill wind that blew no good.

* * *

"Their stealth technology is quite something. Just think of the applications." Tony stated as he entered the gym.

"_Everything's gone."_

"Seriously? You can't see it? Obviously the phasing of this signature completely obscures anything inanimate. For me, the field generated by my phase modulator disrupts it for about a metre in all directions." Tony moved around the gym, able to see all the usual equipment and décor in his proximity before it disappeared completely as the field dissipated.

Looking around him, he bumped into one of Steve's super-reinforced punching bags, hanging on a chain that eerily stopped some way short of the ceiling, and nearly fell over. "…and looks like everything's solid here too," he added, slightly embarrassed.

"It's weird," he continued, "I can see you when you're outside the field….but not this stuff. So whilst it's the same energy signature they can configure the output and density of the particles to perform completely different purposes: Impressive."

Steve's expression glazed a bit at the actual words, but he gleaned enough of the gist to gather Tony thought there was some really clever techie stuff going on here so he said: _"Well, I guess if I'm going to be wiped from existence it might as well be impressively so."_

"Didn't mean…"

"_No, you're good. Sorry, I should steer clear of self-pity."_

"Don't really see why Cap", Tony's sincerity re-emerged from under the veneer of his scientific appreciation, "if I'd had to put up with half of what you've had thrown at you the last few months, I think I'd have probably blown up New York myself by now: And as for this? Well, I don't know how you're staying so calm."

Steve found himself wondering where a patient, understanding Tony had suddenly come from: _"I guess there just comes a point when you get so far beyond bewildered you just go with it and hope it all works out OK"_ was the best he could come up with under the circumstances.

"…or you're just insane?" OK, so he was pushing a bit….

"_Well I never said that wasn't a possibility." _Steve managed to quip straight back with a half-grin.

"Then you're in good company." Tony couldn't help but think this was one hell of a time to find out he could actually start to like this guy.

He stepped closer to Steve until the other man stood within the circumference of the field being generated by the phase modulator, but to his disappointment (although no real surprise), the Captain remained stubbornly translucent and non-corporeal: Tony was starting to get a horrible feeling about exactly what the small masking field in the garage area might be; Steve just felt uncomfortable because other than when they were arguing, or by accident, this was the closest the two men had ever got to each other and he wasn't sure what to make of Tony's behaviour.

"Sorry Cap, just testing a theory. I need to go…er…to the lower floors. There's something I need to check out." Tony said, realising belatedly how awkward what he was doing was making the other man feel.

"_I can't go below the residential floors – there's something stopping me."_

"Mind if I see how that works?"

"_I guess not,"_ Steve figured there was no harm in assuaging Tony's scientific curiosity – after all, the more he learned about this thing, the more he might be able to disrupt it permanently.

They moved away from the gym and over towards the elevator. Tony was enthusiastically asking exactly what had happened when Steve tried to move out of the designated area and completely oblivious to the curious look Natasha, on her way to the gym for her morning workout, threw in his direction on seeing a fully-suited Iron Man apparently talking to himself as he passed through the automatic doors.

"Jarvis, reduce speed to 5% of normal on approach to Level 47" he instructed as they began their descent. The AI complied and Tony was treated to the extraordinary sight of watching Captain America being raised smoothly through the ceiling as the elevator passed beyond the boundary and down to the office floors of the tower.

"Stay there, I'll catch you on my way back," he shouted.

Steve stood, on nothing, in the middle of the shaft, watching the elevator disappear. He briefly considered walking through the closed doors in front of him but, in fairness, he didn't have anything else particularly pressing to do so he opted to wait for Tony to come back: It occurred to him that when a situation as absurd as this starts to make sense you know you're in bad shape.

Just a few minutes had passed before he saw the elevator approaching from the depths again: Despite his being fully aware of it posing no threat to him, it took all his will-power to stand there and allow it to scoop him up on its way past the level.

"That's gotta feel weird."

"_Believe me, it does. Well…?"_

"It's you….in the car….downstairs…"

"_What do you mean?"_

"Downstairs, in the car, in the garage….it's your body….it's still there…" Tony sounded slightly distraught. He'd tracked the source of the phased particles to the car they'd used on the way to the airstrip and, through the disruption field generated by his suit, he'd discovered Steve's body, solid, real and cold – only the barest hint of a pulse indicated he was actually still alive – still sitting in the same seat he'd been occupying when he'd vanished almost two days earlier.

Steve, unsurprisingly, had absolutely no idea how to feel about this information. In a bizarre way, it explained why he had no physical presence – he supposed it was easier to transport him to the court in this form - but he wondered why he felt so ambivalent and wondered if he wasn't suffering from a kind of shock which left him numb and rendered such facts almost meaningless: Tony's level of agitation however seemed amiss.

"_Well I guess that explains a couple of things….but are you OK, Tony?"_

Tony gazed at him, a look of mild horror haunted his features, "er…I don't know. It's just…..I think I sat on that side of the car on the way back."

The simple statement didn't just break the last straw, as far as Steve was concerned, it pounded it to a mush and then stamped on it several times. He started to laugh, really laugh, the way he hadn't done in the longest time.

Tony regarded him quizzically, then realised how trivial what he'd said actually sounded. On the other hand, seeing Steve Rogers laugh was one of the most refreshing things he'd seen in a long time and he wondered why it had taken him so long to realise it was probably the one thing the guy really needed to do and to be seen to do. Suddenly he wasn't dealing with a man of legend but a young guy who'd been dealt a series of the worst cards life could manage and was still managing to retain a sense of humour and purpose…and Tony felt bad that he'd ever seen him as anything else.

"So, I'm a bit freaked – I sat on Captain America's lap. I mean…" he floundered, starting to laugh himself at both the situation and the sight of a national icon giving into a 'if I don't laugh I'll cry' moment.

"_Guess we'll just keep that bit of information to ourselves when we tell this story."_ Steve chuckled: They looked at each other and realised they both hoped the optimism within that statement wasn't misplaced.

Abruptly, Steve sobered up from his giggling fit (a little too abruptly for Tony's liking) he was apparently distracted by something.

"_Sorry Tony, Yustis is here."_ And with that simple statement he disappeared from the elevator.

"Steve? Oh hell….Jarvis, current location of the Type 3 signature?"

"Concentration of the signature is currently located in the unallocated room, residential corridor." Jarvis supplied effortlessly.

"Get me there now." The elevator started to move to the correct floor and Tony, barely waiting for the doors to open fully, sped out almost upending Clint (sauntering along in the other direction) in the process.

"Hey! Look where you're going…." the startled archer began wondering why a clearly sleep-deprived and haggard looking Iron Man was charging around the corridors before noon. Tony barely acknowledged him as he raced along the corridor and all but took the door to a room Clint couldn't recall ever really noticing before off its hinges in his haste.

Hawkeye shook his head and shrugged, this was hardly one of the weirder things likely to happen at any time in the tower he reasoned, before he carried on to the elevator that had arrived so conveniently at this level.

Tony burst into the room to be greeted by the sight of Steve in conversation with a tall, silvery and clearly alien creature.

"Just stand back, he's not going anywhere." Tony wasn't sure what he could do against this being but a bit of posturing never hurt.

The alien regarded him with curiosity as he approached.

"_It's OK Tony, Yustis has just come to advise me that my trial has been set for tomorrow, I'm not going anywhere at the moment."_ Steve clearly sensed that Tony was on the defensive and wanted to pre-emptively calm things down.

"_Indeed," _Tony was surprised by Yustis' unexpectedly soft and conciliatory tone. _"I am most impressed you have attained such a level of technology that you have been able to penetrate the suppression field. Clearly humans are not as primitive as we believed. I must ensure our records are updated to reflect this."_

Tony visibly bristled at the use of the word 'primitive' but, wisely, decided against antagonising the alien. In return, Yustis looked at him with a degree of intrigue and seemed…bemused?

"_Steve," _the alien clearly made the effort to address the man the way he had requested, _"are you able to give me any more information regarding the serum that was administered to you?"_

"I can…" Tony stated (_"I hope"_ he thought), "Jarvis, do you have the summary ready?"

"It is complete."

"Display on nearest monitor."

A series of bullet points with associated corroborating scans was detailed on the holographic console with which all rooms in the tower were equipped. Yustis held up his hand over the screen and seemingly absorbed all the forthcoming information. He bowed his head a moment, apparently to assimilate the data.

"_This is a thorough analysis. I personally have no problems accepting that the incident was entirely unanticipated and unplanned. The court, however, is another matter."_

He sighed and regarded them both with a mix of understanding and regret.

"_My initial opinion was that this is no more than a misunderstanding: That has not changed. Please understand that I regard this matter as trivial and in no way deserving of the Council's attention – I do not consider that any laws have been broken. Unfortunately, my opinion carries little weight."_

Tony and Steve both regarded him with a mixture of relief (at least the Defence Council believed Steve was innocent of the charges) and trepidation (Yustis' own doubt that his belief would have any impact on proceedings).

"_My standing amongst the members of my race is not great, I am a relatively junior member and considered somewhat radical in my beliefs. I received notice of your trial so late because no-one senior to me would accept the case." _He looked directly at Steve. _"There is a predisposition among the members of the Council to give significantly greater credence to existing members of the treaty. The complaint against you came from such a source. Many of my colleagues felt your case to be indefensible on that basis alone."_

"Who was it? Who complained?" Tony demanded.

"_Unfortunately I am unable to divulge that information. The Earth is not a signatory of the Treaty…."_ Yustis did at least look apologetic, _"I am truly sorry, I do not necessarily agree with all our rules but I am bound by them. I have, however, been given permission by the Council to seek out the source of the accusation and make my own inquiries as to the veracity and reasoning behind it. I will be going there directly once we have concluded here."_

"So some big shot with an axe to grind against Earth and friends in high places gets preferential treatment?" Tony was near apoplectic with the process but seemed to accept that Yustis was trying to do his best for Steve.

"_What happens if I plead 'guilty' and claim extenuating circumstances? Would the Council accept erasing my existence from now and not changing the timeline as appropriate punishment?" _Steve spoke slowly and deliberately, he'd clearly been considering this.

"No way Cap. You're not lying down on the wire because some intergalactic bully's throwing his weight around…"

Yustis raised his hands indicating he wished for silence, with some effort Tony complied.

"_I accept and admire your reasoning Steve. With the information you have given me concerning the 'serum' I believe we would have a strong argument for pursuing that course should the Council find against you. However, I am yet hopeful that I will be able to discredit or expose a weakness in the original complaint and, for the moment, I must continue my enquiries in the hope of doing that."_

Yustis looked compassionately at the Captain. _"I will see you tomorrow when I hope I will have more encouraging news." _And, with that, he was gone.

Steve looked at Tony with an expression of steely resolve on his features to be met with an answering look of abject horror.

"That's not happening Cap…"

"_It may have to Tony."_


	7. Chapter 7

**OK, so this bit wasn't supposed to be a standalone chapter, but it kind of got away on me and it seems to need its own space - a bit angsty for me, but I quite like it.  
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**Reviews and follows continue to be appreciated and savoured. Thank you all for sticking with me.  
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* * *

**Chapter Seven**

"_Tony, there's nothing more to be done now. You should get some sleep."_ Steve said firmly, indicating that he did not want to hear any more about what had just been said.

Despite every fibre of Tony's being screaming at him to argue about the Captain's fall-back plan, he understood the pragmatism of the suggestion should the worst come to the worst: It didn't mean he had to like it though.

"Last resort only, you promise?" He was concerned at the slight hesitation before Steve inclined his head in assent.

"_Grab a couple of hours Tony. If you're good and have something to eat as well afterwards I'll talk you through using the coffee maker." _Had that come from anyone else, Tony would have assumed they were being patronising and responded accordingly, but the Captain had a fond strictness in his tone that suggested it was an order being conveyed as a suggestion to which the genius would be wise to accede. Tony felt himself forced to agree, he was so tired he knew he couldn't argue anything coherently and they did at least have 24 hours to come up with another alternative.

"How'd you learn to use that machine anyway Cap?" Tony asked as they walked to his room.

"_I read the instructions",_ Steve grinned as he watched Tony settle himself into a comfortable looking armchair (he had refused to remove the suit out of the quite reasonable fear he would be unable to remember why he should put it back on were he to do so).

"Instructions? That's a delightfully old-fashioned notion."

"_I'm an old-fashioned guy."_

"Don't forget delightful…ugh did I just say that? I really need to sleep."

"_Does that mouth of yours ever shut up long enough to let you sleep?" _

Tony yawned, propping himself round with cushions and looking tired enough to be able to manage on a bed of nails. "None of that walking in through walls to check on me now Mother. I promise I will take a nap."

"_Sleep tight." _Steve chuckled.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." Tony murmured, starting to doze.

The choice of words awakened memories in Steve of the last time someone had said that to him; memories of simpler times, when he at least knew who he was, recognised the world around him and had a friend who cared about him as a person rather than a propaganda construct.

"_How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."_ His wistful reply was barely uttered so as not to disturb the now sleeping man.

* * *

Steve left the room and returned to his haunt by the huge lounge window, looking out at the city he'd once known so well made him feel much less trapped but once again reinforced, as always, just how far from 'home' he really was. This time, as his eyes raked the skyline for familiar buildings, he was more keenly aware of the sense of loneliness than ever after the company and conversation of the last few hours.

When he'd first awoken he'd been overwhelmed and shocked: Everyone he'd 'died' to save when he'd gone into the ice had since passed away or was near death rendering his sacrifice almost meaningless for him; he'd missed 67 years of progress and change and recognised very little of this society, even the language was different; he'd been launched into a battle with extra-terrestrials almost instantly and expected to cope with leading heroes who were better equipped, more aware of the threat and more capable than he was; but the worst thing (the constant fear that beset him) was that not only was he little more than a fossil of a figurehead for a team that, otherwise, may not be seen as socially acceptable, but that if he failed at any point he would be consigned to a lab for 'study' to see if they could replicate the serum he'd received and put it into someone more clued up and capable for the 21st Century leaving him with no purpose whatsoever.

The fear had worsened constantly as he'd become trapped by the doubled chains of his own grief and his singular inability to find common ground with the few people he'd had some contact with: They were all so busy, they had lives and outside contacts of their own. He couldn't even leave the tower without feeling like a stranger in an even stranger land and this was his 'home' city; he'd felt lost with the technology and the modern references that defined current communication.

Up until he'd seen the devastation that his absence from the timeline would most likely cause, he would have seen his erasure from the 21st Century as a merciful release: The ultimate blameless suicide, causing no hardship or pain to another individual and restoring his death to when he'd believed it had happened. Steve Rogers wasn't a quitter but he'd been severely tested since he'd been pushed unceremoniously into a time not his own. His plan to plea bargain had first occurred to him shortly after the preliminary hearing: Seeing it as what he'd heard Clint call a 'win-win scenario'.

….and then he'd got a glimmer of hope. A few short hours of connection with the one human being in this time who represented the most tenuous of links to his past…not much, but something.

Steve could freely admit he'd been disappointed when he first met Tony Stark, but, in retrospect, he was now able to acknowledge he'd been entirely unfair. Tony wasn't Howard, but then Steve had wondered frequently over recent weeks how much help to him Howard would have been? It wasn't like they had been close, not how Tony seemed to think they were at any rate: Steve had admired the confident, charismatic genius but Howard had only briefly seen the real Steve Rogers and now, when he was finally able to frame his relationship with the man from a distance, he realised Howard's interest had always been along the lines of a proud artist eager to display his greatest work of art or, perhaps, he saw him the way Frankenstein saw his monster (without the anti-social tendencies obviously), an achievement to be paraded and gloried in. Supplementary reading of articles he'd not had access to during the War had shown that the elder Stark's association with the project had boosted his profile way beyond that of his competitors and cemented his place as first choice for all the ensuing Government contracts.

Nonetheless, Tony's name had offered Steve (initially) the rarest of things in his first experiences of the new century in which he found himself – something familiar. He now realised it had been an unrealistic expectation and his first impression was that the man exemplified all of Howard's good and bad points exponentially. But, since the altercation aboard the helicarrier, Steve had realised that he'd been unreasonable in clinging to that expectation the way a drowning man grasps for a piece of wood with no thought to its suitability for the task of keeping him afloat.

He'd subsequently tried to apologise, but manners were, apparently, as obsolete as he was in this new time.

Even back when he'd got himself into fights he had no chance of winning and had only been saved by the timely intervention of Bucky, he had never felt so lost and needy as he had during those first few weeks after the Chitauri invasion: Captain America was never 'lost and needy'. But Steve Rogers was. In this alien (to him) environment, when there wasn't a tangible enemy to fight, that's exactly what he was.

…and therein lay his real problem. In the eyes of everyone who saw him, only Captain America had survived the ice: Steve Rogers was the same nobody he'd always been. He felt like he'd arrived at a party knowing no-one but with everyone having a preconceived impression of who he was and how he was supposed to be. Captain America was able to cope, never showed weakness and, most certainly, had no character flaws, Steve Rogers, on the other hand, had plenty in his estimation and right now he was being selfish, deliberately so. Despite knowing that Tony needed to sleep – desperately – he wanted him to wake up and take him away from this spiral of misery. He wanted to know whether the genius saw his breakthrough with the phase modulator as just a science project gone well, as Steve imagined Howard would have, or if what he'd seen of the man over the last few hours was something that might just make persevering with the 21st Century worthwhile.

Steve sighed, a glimmer of hope had come out of nowhere and out of the most unbelievable circumstances; it might not even be that, if he was back as things were and the threat were gone, would things revert to how they were before?

Steve laughed….at himself.

"_May as well be a fool all your life Rogers, however long it lasts."_

It was a fundamental part of him that quelled anything else, he couldn't help it: Hope! He knew, even before he'd finished his own train of thought, what his decision would be – whether it was in his power to affect the outcome or not, while he had hope, no matter how faint, he'd keep trying.

So the drowning man kept swimming for the smallest piece of wood with just the faintest of hopes that it would support him when he got there.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Once again, thank you for the reviews, they do keep me focussed on finishing this because, although I do love the story, I weaken occasionally when I give myself yet another logic hurdle to overcome. **

**A little mix of comedy & drama to lighten the early part of this one - with a side helping of Steve conflict (it's not angst, I just feel he's really torn about what he wants to do).  
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* * *

**Chapter 8**

Tony awoke with a start, feeling slightly stiff from his unconventional nightwear but nonetheless rested and considerably fresher than before.

"Time please Jarvis?"

"5.42pm Sir."

"Where's Steve?"

"Who, Sir?"

"Errmmm…the Type 3 signature, I called it 'Steve', trips off the tongue a bit easier"

"Really?" Jarvis sounded very unconvinced and more than a little disapproving. "The signature is currently located in the lounge area. Are you sure you are quite well?" He added.

"Fine J, errr…I need….the bathroom…open flaps."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you removed the suit Sir?"

"Not an option, just do it – now!"

* * *

A short time later a (very) relieved and refreshed Tony strode into the lounge fully aware of the fact that the moment this was all over he was most assuredly going to need a shower.

"There you are…." he gasped completely unaware that Bruce was seated reading in the corner.

Steve turned and just nodded his head in the direction of Bruce, sitting on one of the corner couches eyeing Tony curiously.

"There what is…?" a confused Bruce asked.

Tony decided to test something.

"I'm talking to Steve, remember? Captain America? Leader of the Avengers?"

"Oh right…." Bruce looked momentarily confused before shrugging and asking, "…are you working on an addition to the suit?"

"Yeah…kind of. It helps me find stuff I've lost", Tony grinned. Bruce failed to notice it wasn't directed at him.

"Perhaps it can help you find the lost secret of making the coffee machine make something that tastes like coffee then" he shrugged picking up his book once again.

"Not a bad idea," Tony couldn't resist the urge to smirk when he realised Steve was laughing.

"_OK, I did promise…but you get something to eat as well, right?"_

Tony turned to head in the direction of the kitchen, Steve dropped into step alongside him amazed at how natural that had become in such a short time.

As he approached the coffee maker, Tony did a quick 360 degree survey for any lurking members of the household and a heat scan of the neighbouring vents for concealed archers before he started conversation again.

"I totally have to figure out how this mental blocking thing works – can you imagine how much easier it would make press conferences? No more awkward questioning from Pepper? The uses are endless." Tony happily chattered as he followed Steve's directions and set the coffee maker going.

"_Food, Tony! And not poptarts either." _Steve refused to be distracted from making sure Tony ingested something other than caffeine.

They both looked at each other with the same realisation at almost exactly the same moment…."Thor!"

"_Maybe they know something about this Treaty on Asgard."_

"They must do….Jarvis, get a message to Thor. Tell him he's needed immediately! Urgent!"

"Certainly Sir", Jarvis acknowledged.

Tony winced at Jarvis' lack of curiosity at his apparently talking to himself. This was some tech that could trick Jarvis and obscure events in real time well enough to deceive his AI.

"_It must be frustrating for you. I know how you pride yourself on Jarvis being immune to any interference."_

The Captain's insight momentarily caught Tony off-guard.

"How the hell did you…?"

"_I don't need to know how things work to appreciate what they do Tony, and I don't need to be fully up-to-date with all the technology to realise that you develop the most advanced the Earth has to offer: Jarvis and Iron Man are your greatest creations, anything that can affect one of them you take as a personal affront."_

"Well you're not wrong. But I thought you didn't like technology Cap?" Tony quelled the rising sense of pride at the compliment embedded in the statement.

"_I don't like or dislike it. I know a lot of it makes people's lives better, but I also think a lot of communications technology means people communicate less with each other: They know everyone's business but don't take the time to get to know individual people because they're never face-to-face with them…and the camera phone's an evolutionary step backwards when it comes to survival instinct – people used to run away from danger when you showed them an escape route, now they stand there filming it all wanting to be the first to put it on YouTube."_

"Now you've definitely got a point there." Tony chuckled: Civilians endangering themselves just to get a video clip was a constant source of irritation to all of them when the team was deployed in populated areas but, he had to admit, Steve's astute take on it was entirely unexpected. He certainly wasn't wasting time when it came to getting up to speed on 21st Century stupidity.

The coffee was ready so Tony poured himself a large mug and drunk almost half the contents straight off, he immediately topped it up again. Moving over to the fridge he took out a large slice of cold pizza and, without bothering to locate a plate, brought it over to the table with his mug.

Steve raised an eyebrow slightly at the sight of Tony's food choice before shrugging, _"…well it's got vegetables on it so I suppose that qualifies as a balanced meal by your standards."_

Tony grinned through a mouthful of pizza, chewing furiously through an incomprehensible attempt at a sarcastic response but was alerted by voices approaching the kitchen.

Natasha, closely followed by Clint, entered the room and looked sternly at Tony's attire.

"Still talking to yourself, Stark?" she queried.

"Certainly am Red, it's the only way I get any intelligent conversation around here." He gulped the last piece of pizza and rose from the table. Topping up his coffee one last time he affected a faux English accent and said, "let us adjourn elsewhere dear boy." Steve followed him shaking his head and snickering at the choice of words.

"Is there a number we're supposed to call when he gets really weird?" Clint asked. "Although at least he's remembered how to use the coffee machine," he added gleefully pouring himself a cup, "perhaps we'll let him off this time."

Natasha just shook her head figuring it was probably only a matter of time before they all cracked.

"_Dear boy?"_ Steve's face bore a quizzical look.

"You were in England during the War weren't you? I thought you might like to hear something familiar."

"_I was in England during the War and I guarantee I didn't hear a soul speak like that the whole time…"_

"Thought they all rode around smog-filled streets in carriages wearing deer stalkers."

"'_Fraid not."_

"You mean….Hollywood lies….?" Tony struck a comically dramatic pose as they emerged from the elevator to see a bewildered Bruce whose face immediately went blank and walked past Tony and into the now vacant elevator with a nonchalant "Hi Tony" as soon as the billionaire said "Just talking to Steve".

An unbelievably childish giggle escaped Tony's lips as the doors closed – the coffee was obviously working.

"I know this isn't cool…for you…or for me…in the sense of you're at risk…but it is cool, if you see what I mean. I'm not trying to be offensive or belittle the danger or anything. You do understand…right?" He rambled to his companion.

"_It's OK Tony, I can understand how intriguing this all is for you and I don't mind."_ Steve punctuated his statement with a smile that reinforced his words.

"If you don't mind me saying…hell, even if you do….when we get you back, and we ARE getting you back….can it be this non-Captain version of you?"

"_I've only ever been me all along Tony. But from the moment I woke up, all people wanted was Captain America. They wanted to tell me about their trading card and comic collections, how their granddads talked about me, show me the memorials….I didn't want to let anyone down by just being Steve the nobody, the kid from Brooklyn, so I had to keep acting the way Captain America's supposed to be."_

"Steve Rogers isn't a nobody…" Tony's statement was emphatic as he mulled over what the man had just said – weren't they all responsible for him feeling like that? The Avengers themselves had been living under the same roof as the man for weeks now and had just assumed he was exactly as all the biographies - many written by people who'd never even met him – had said.

They'd entered the lab by this time and Tony sank onto the large comfortable sofa, the weight of the suit became cumbersome after so long, "Jarvis? Any news from Thor?" he asked anxiously.

"He has replied that he has a high priority matter to attend to and will return to Earth immediately once that is completed."

"Did you stress this is urgent?"

"I did Sir. His reply was as I stated."

"Typical," Tony turned to Steve, "when I don't need him, the guy's here eating his body weight in poptarts, now he's too busy…"

"_He does have other responsibilities, I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he can."_

"Just tell me one thing. How the hell do you stay so damn calm all the time?"

A small, sad smile crossed Steve's lips, _"practise"_ he uttered softly. At Tony's querying look he felt compelled to elucidate, _"I'd always been opinionated, never knew when to shut up when it was something I felt strongly about. Back before I got the serum, there always seemed to be some guy who thought the fact he was bigger and could punch harder than me made his opinion more valid than mine. So I'd end up in an alley somewhere trying not to end up dead. Most often, Bucky would intervene but sometimes I'd have to last till he found me or he wasn't around. Those days, people fought with fists, not knives or guns, so chances were I'd only take a beating but my asthma was the biggest risk, so I always stayed calm trying not to bring on an attack. Guess it became a habit."_

He stated it evenly, without rancour or bitterness (which Tony found extraordinary), as though such cowardly bullying was just a fact of life when he was growing up and nothing out of the ordinary.

"You know, my Dad was always talking about you…never shut up in fact…but he never really said anything about you before the serum other than that you were a skinny little guy with health problems…."

"_I never talked with your Dad about my life before the serum and he never asked. When Senator Brandt decided to promote Captain America, they wanted to draw as little public attention to my previous existence as possible, it wasn't relevant." _A sad grimace crossed Steve's features at this point. _"The nearest I ever came to really losing my temper with a civilian was when one of the Senator's aides, who was charged with writing my background story for 'public consumption', told me it was 'convenient' I was an orphan so they wouldn't have to deal with 'any family talking to the press'."_

Tony looked horrified: "…and there was me thinking I'm the most insensitive asshole in creation."

"_Compared to some people I've met, you'd be a mere beginner."_ He saw the perplexed look on the billionaire's face and continued. _"Captain America was a propaganda tool to sell war bonds Tony. No government's going to admit such a figure nearly died as a child of starvation and ill-health in one of its major cities, is it? It was made very clear to me exactly how I was supposed to conduct myself publically – at the time I thought it was just for the duration of the tour, until I could actually get to do what I'd enlisted to do – fight - I didn't think it would still be a millstone around my neck 70 years later."_

"So, are you telling me you don't _like_ Captain America?"

"_Of course not, it's just he was created as an ideal, an aspirational character for a country in a time of national crisis and…well, it's fine to say people need that these days but being limited by that prevents me from fitting in and adjusting to the 21__st__ Century. When you take the suit off, you can choose to distance yourself from what people expect of Iron Man if you want; you can just be Tony Stark and people will accept it. Whether I'm wearing the uniform or not, everyone still expects me to behave like Captain America and I'm constantly a slave to the demands of maintaining a body that, as you said, came out of a bottle."_

"I didn't mean…"

He raised his translucent hand to request silence and looked straight through it at Tony, urging him with his eyes to understand and give him a personal reason to fight: "_I'm tired of being only being some of me. This is the most 'Steve' I've been able to be since I lost Bucky and I'd rather not exist at all than continue the partial existence I've had since I woke up."_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Thanks for the reviews: Particular appreciation to Dairi and vampyfreak - you two are genuinely keeping me going :)  
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**Have upped the rating to a T just because I'm a bit paranoid.  
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**Enjoy!  
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* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Tony was briefly too stunned to talk after what he'd just heard.

"Look Cap…sorry, Steve…I know the 21st Century probably hasn't been as welcoming as it should be but there's no need to pull the whole emotional blackmail crap on me…"

"_What's that?" _Steve looked genuinely confused – it occurred to Tony that he'd almost certainly not heard the term before and was probably too honest to apply the concept. _"I'm not trying to do anything but rationalise the best possible course of action in the circumstances. You said to me you couldn't solve an equation without all the variables, right? I can't form a strategy without weighing up the possible outcomes against the likelihood of success."_

Tony regarded Steve and noticed there was a cold sincerity in his eyes that he normally only saw when the Captain was analysing and formulating a plan of action. It crossed his mind that – even without the serum – Steve was the real brains behind the legend: Everything he did that really mattered (his leadership in battle, his desire to protect other people and his ability to make the calls that counted among those qualities) came from the little guy who'd out-thought and outwitted the bullies who tried to grind him down by becoming far more than they could have ever dreamed of.

"_At the moment," _Steve continued, _"the only remaining variable is anything Yustis may discover about the source of the complaint. The only outcome that matters is that the city and, by extension, the Earth is not affected, and for now I can't guarantee that will happen: On this occasion, my feelings actually come into the equation and I'm trying to explain to you that, if Yustis can't offer any additional hope, I'm OK with making the plea first and accepting that outcome rather than wait until they've ruled against me and possibly face the timeline being changed."_

"You can't seriously be thinking of sacrificing yourself again…"

"_There's no 'again' about it Tony. If nothing changes and I lose the case, everyone and everything's gone anyway. I died in 1945 and have the gravestone to prove it! I don't have a life here worthy of the name, we both know I don't belong; the team don't need me; and the World sees me as a relic of a bygone age. Nothing I've experienced so far will allow me to move on from that….so, seriously, I'm not losing anything and no-one will remember I was ever here. Where's the sacrifice in that?"_

"You know, I don't have to listen to this…"

"_Then turn off the device and you won't have to. You won't remember a thing."_

They sat facing each other in silence for several minutes. Tony seriously considered turning the phase modulator off when he realised he had no good argument at that moment against Steve's plan: Much as he loathed the idea, it was the right call unless the situation changed. He just wished he'd done more to make it a harder decision for the man to have to make – it felt like he was embracing the idea too readily; he should be angry, not resigned.

He found himself desperately hoping Yustis would turn up with something that could turn the case in Steve's favour before wondering how it was all his trust – something he found difficult to do at the best of times – was being placed in an alien from a race of which he had no knowledge.

And, talking of aliens, where the hell was Thor?!

Steve was right, if he turned off the device he'd forget all about this and they'd either all still be there tomorrow or the worst would have happened, in which case none of them would know anything about it: Sweet, quick, painless – possibly better than any of them could hope for if they continued as the Avengers without their leader…_their leader?_

"It's our fault that you don't feel like you belong – not yours. The team do need you, you know."

His words were soft but directed with emphasis towards the man crouched opposite him with his fingers arched and an oddly calm look on his face.

"_It's kind of you to say that Tony, but I know it's not true. You were only caught out the other night because you were a man short with no time to adapt. SHIELD would soon make up the numbers and give you someone with additional tactical knowledge if necessary."_

"It wouldn't be the same."

"_You wouldn't know any different."_

"The fact you've just outflanked me, a bona fide genius, says everything I need to know about what we'd lose."

"_You didn't turn the phase modulator off Tony. Why?"_

The sudden change of subject caught Tony out briefly and he shook his head, the ghost of a smile played across his lips as he realised Steve had terminated the previous line of discussion as being irrelevant in the circumstances – if only the guy didn't make so much sense – he briefly pondered the answer to the question and realised now, if there was ever going to be one, was one of those rare occasions in his life where only total honesty would do:

"Because you don't leave a friend to face what might be the last 12 hours of his existence on his own."

Tony could have sworn the smile that greeted his statement gave off more wattage than his arc reactor did in a week.

Tony had never really 'made a friend' before: He'd made plenty of truly remarkable things in his life but never something as intangible as a friend.

He'd had paid employees who he'd grown close to mainly because they had the right mentality to withstand his frequently intolerable presence long enough to realise that under the unpredictability, narcissism and arrogance was a genuinely nice, if insecure, guy. He'd had people like Rhodey who'd just been too strong-willed and determined to wilt under the sheer hassle of being around him. He'd kind of developed a working relationship with the rest of the Avengers (maybe not Natasha, he was too scared of her) based on odd common areas of interest. But in all those cases, the friendships had kind of sneaked up on him and they'd just become an integral part of his life almost by default.

This was a unique event for Tony Stark. He'd opened the door, extended the hand – both were inappropriate metaphors but they'd do – whatever you called it, he'd made the first move. Maybe it was a bit of desperation to feel he could do something, maybe he wouldn't even remember it tomorrow – and that thought gave him chills of the most unpleasant variety – but right now Steve needed a friend and Tony wasn't going to let him down…and it felt incredibly good!

He smiled back.

* * *

A silence descended between them…initially it was quite comfortable, but then it extended and was beginning to get awkward. Tony knew he had to be the one to break it, it was his responsibility: The barrier that had existed between them ever since their first meeting, or probably since Tony had first found out that they'd retrieved Captain America, was threatening what they'd established. He knew it wasn't fair to make Steve raise the subject, he'd all but bitten the man's head off every time he'd tried before….Howard!

"Tell me about my Dad." He finally blurted out. "The truth", he added.

Steve paused. A look of uncertainty briefly crossed his features before he composed himself and stated:

"_He was charismatic, handsome, a genius…he was always the centre of attention wherever he went…."_ Tony's face fell, he'd heard all this from any number of people, _"…I admired him and the work he did contributed greatly to the War effort…but I really didn't know him personally very well at all."_

"You're kidding, right? He was forever talking about you…like you were joined at the hip or something…"

"_Honestly, I met the man probably no more than a dozen times in total. Our longest conversation was the day I got my shield, and that wasn't the one he wanted me to have,"_ Tony quirked an eyebrow at that, _"he wanted me to have one with lots of built in weaponry. I just wanted something simple I could rely on and, to be fair, it's never let me down. I've always been grateful to him for making it."_

Tony had to nod at that, Captain America's shield was a truly amazing piece of simple engineering to have withstood a strike from Mjölnir – but not as amazing as the man who wielded it with such skill.

Refusing to be distracted now he'd committed himself to hearing the other side of the story, Tony persisted with the original subject:

"He flew you behind enemy lines when you went to rescue your friend, didn't he?"

"_He did. An amazing risk for him to take – you could say brave and reckless, a little like someone else I know."_

"Fair point…" Tony hated people comparing him to his father, but even he had to admit they had some behavioural similarities – particularly when it came to the younger Howard. "What about 'fondue'?"

Steve laughed. _"Made a fool of myself over that one…having seen how he behaved when he dragged me to parties…well….I got that wrong."_

"Parties….?"

A look of discomfort flitted across Steve's features, he looked at Tony as though unsure whether to answer.

"I want to know Steve," Tony urged.

"_Well," _he started, reluctantly, _"it seemed that on any given night when I wasn't on stage with the tour, Howard would turn up and drag me off to some party. He'd tell Senator Brandt that it was promotion for the sale of War Bonds; he'd tell his Board (he tended to forget my enhanced hearing when he was on the phone) that where I was the good, the great and, most importantly, the wealthy would turn up - he was always seeking investment partners…..and, when he'd had a few drinks, he'd forget all of that and tell me I was there because I was 'good bait for fresh meat'"_

"Sounds fun" said Tony.

"_Only if you're not the bait"_ growled Steve.

"It can't have been as bad as all that."

"_Some of those women were pretty scary….like vultures picking at a carcass and I didn't dare ask them to leave me alone in case it got into print as Captain America being rude to someone. That's pretty much where the blushing when a woman talks to me became a learned reaction, I was already uncomfortable and out of my depth socially so I just gave in to the tendency: It bypassed any need for having to engage in conversation with them other than the very basics and preserved the image I'd been ordered to promote."_

"Sounds pretty miserable."

"_It got worse on the rare occasions I ran into someone I might stand a chance of getting along with. One night, very late in the evening, Howard was holding court in the centre of the room and I was sitting to one side waiting till we could leave, a young lady – daughter of one of the industrialists there – sat down across the table from me: She was sweet, pretty eyes, quite shy and wanted to be an artist. We were just talking, nothing more. Anyway, Howard spotted us and pretty much dragged me away. I found out later her father had been left with the distinct impression renewal of his Government contracts would not be viewed 'favourably' should allegations of anything I may have said or done get into the press."_

"And my father, the biggest letch of them all, was party to that?"

"_Stark Industries got a lot of positive publicity from its association with the 'purity and moral rectitude' of Captain America, it deflected attention away from some of the gossip surrounding your father. Senator Brandt may have devised the idea but Howard supported it wholeheartedly – it was good for business. The last thing they wanted was anyone finding out that their pet project was just a normal human being like anyone else."_

"Son of a b…"

"_The good thing to come out of it was at least he didn't make me go to any more parties after that – couldn't have me stringing sentences together and undoing all their good work."_ Steve gave a hollow chuckle.

"So have I got this straight…? You were _ordered_ not to have sex?"

Steve smiled slightly, a mischievous glint dancing behind his eyes:

"_No Tony. I was ordered not to get caught doing anything that might be…er…'deleterious to the public's perception' of me."_

"Doesn't sound like you got a lot of opportunity to do anything, not with my Dad defending your virtue all the time."

Steve smirked slightly before airily replying, _"6 months touring the States with some very lovely and warm-hearted dancers who were keen to do their bit for 'troop morale'? Absolutely no opportunities at all."_ His tone was imbued with a hefty dose of sarcasm. _"Mind you, I'm fairly sure some of the lengths I went to so as not to get caught would prove good training for covert operations."_

Tony found himself laughing at the mental images this was conjuring up. "And my Dad had no idea?"

"_I suspect if he'd known, he'd have engineered me a chastity belt – would have looked good with the costume."_

By now they were both laughing, Tony was fairly sure this was probably the most surprising and enlightening conversation he'd ever had. The revelation made perfect sense and he was amazed at how gullible they'd all been, believing what was little more than media spin, especially when they were all so cynical about modern hype and promotion.

"And my Dad thought he knew you…" Tony mused.

"_He knew Captain America better than anyone, he basically created him, but he had no time for Steve Rogers. Anyway, it wasn't all bad, the character gave me a standing and reputation among the troops when I did finally get to fight – even if it was just curiosity – it would have taken a lot longer to attain that as just an ordinary soldier. The mental discipline helps in battle too, I'm so used to not letting personal feelings intrude I can be more focussed and single-minded."_

"Only you could put a positive spin on being treated like that."

"_It was wartime, if you were asked to do something in the service your country, you did it – even if it wasn't exactly what you wanted to be doing. I did think though, once it was all over, I'd be able to have a life again: Seems I was wrong."_

"You need to do whatever it takes to win this case of yours Cap….the 21st Century has some making up to do and I'll make it my personal mission to see it does."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Well an interesting mix of reactions to Steve's admission in the last chapter. Can I just suggest that you remember the events he's referring to do take place in the 1940s with the inherent "practical" considerations of the time – which, even if Steve was naïve to them when he joined the tour, I very much doubt any of the dancers would have been! So do bear in mind that any "morale boosting" may possibly not have been as salacious as the 21st Century mindset would suggest. We will, of course, never know exact details because Steve comes from an era when a gentleman didn't tell – and he's definitely a gentleman. So read it to mean whatever you're comfortable with.**

**Once again thank you for the reviews and to those who are hanging on in there with me, we're getting there.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Ten**

A prolonged silence settled between the two. It wasn't uncomfortable but it wasn't relaxed either.

Tony glanced at the clock, 3am – the hearing was today!

He hated the powerlessness he was experiencing. Tony Stark was used to being able to control and fix problems. He hated that, in the next few hours, this fledgling friendship may have never existed….And, most of all, he hated that his father had sacrificed his childhood for…well what exactly?

"I need a drink…" he groaned, he really had been in this suit far too long. He rose and walked over to a cabinet marked "Medical Supplies" and withdrew a bottle of vodka and a crystal glass. "Wish I could offer you one too…"

"_Wish I could have one."_ Came the quiet reply.

Tony wanted to scream or blow something up…he was so infuriated with the situation. He wanted to shake Steve and force him to do the same rather than him stand there, stoically awaiting his own oblivion….he wanted to….switch the phase modulator off so he wouldn't have to deal with any of this any more.

His hand hovered over the device.

"_Go ahead Tony…I wouldn't blame you."_

"You'd like that wouldn't you. A few hours of self-pity and then it'd be all over; self-sacrificing to the end." Tony said bitterly, filling the glass and downing it in one.

"_If you like."_

"You're a bastard, do you know that? Get me believing you're human and imperfect like the rest of us then get all impossibly heroic so I know exactly what messed my Dad up."

"_So, a bit like someone who flew a nuke into a dimensional portal with no idea if he'd be able to get back?"_ Pending non-existence obviously worked wonders for Steve's comebacks.

That was a stupid, impulsive decision…you've had a couple of days to think about this and you're still going to do it."

"_Only if I need to – I promise Tony, if I see any alternative I'll take it and come back and annoy you again."_ Steve smiled.

"You promise? You'll come back and let me bug you for exact details of those dancers? Let me tease you about your crap dress sense and outmoded language?"

"_Tough choice between that and oblivion….but you swayed me."_ The smile was broader this time.

"You know, I think my Dad wanted to find you so bad because he wished he'd been a better friend."

"_Can I say something?"_ Steve looked nervous.

"If you don't say it now, it's a bit hard to see when you're going to get a chance." The second glass of vodka had hit the mark.

"_In the context of the time and what the World needed to defeat the Nazis, your Dad was a good man. But although was brilliant…..you're better, not only as an engineer and scientist, but as a person. What you do, what you create and the difference you're making to the World's future…he could have only dreamed of." _

Steve paused as though wondering if it was his place to say it….then seemed to decide that there, literally, was no time like the present. _"Thing is, there was over 25 years between my crashing into the ice and you being born: I don't know what went through his head during that time but, if he allowed looking for me or needing to create a better mousetrap or whatever else he was working on at the time as an excuse to neglect the one project he needed to be great at, being a father, then he was a complete fool."_

Tony was stunned, overwhelmed by the sincerity of the statement.

Then he realised: "How did you know about that?" He knew he'd never mentioned his resentment concerning his childhood in front of Steve.

Steve looked a bit abashed and tapped at his ear. _"Sorry. Enhanced hearing. I often hear stuff I shouldn't, even though I try not to."_

Tony blanched. He remembered a loud denunciation of "Captain Uptight" Clint had launched into (_"Oh hell, you can't just blame him, you were just as bad Stark") _the other night when Steve had been in the kitchen. What else had he heard?

As if sensing Tony's sudden concern, Steve reassured him: _"I've overheard far worse at SHIELD HQ than anything I've heard here. Some of those agents really aren't as busy as they pretend to be."_

Tony steeled his nerves and forced himself to look Steve straight in the eye.

"You need to know that ABSOLUTELY NOTHING that's really _special_ about you came out of a bottle."

"_And you need to know you don't need to pretend to be a hero….YOU ARE A HERO!"_

"Sir, Director Fury is on the line. It appears there is an emergency requiring the Avengers intervention." Jarvis' clipped tones interrupted.

"At this time of day? Has he lost his toothbrush or something? Tell him he can kiss my…a….ah, 'morning Director….you're up early."

The communication was brief and perfunctory. As Tony signed off and perused SHIELD's initial data he ground his teeth with irritation. He really was sick of aliens at the moment and this just about the worst timing possible.

They had feared something like this since the Chitauri Incident. Scans had detected some kind of weakening of the area where the Tesseract had ripped a hole leading to another dimension – though it had been closed, it was, effectively, like an area of fabric that had been invisibly repaired and remained weaker than it would have otherwise been. Bruce had been leading the project to monitor the region and develop a successful patch but it was a whole new area of research and development and they'd only been able to devise the most rudimentary of monitoring and alert systems so far.

At least, however, the alert system had been in place and they'd got some kind of early warning of activity in the area.

"Jarvis, get Bruce down here."

"He is already alerted and on his way Sir."

Tony looked over to Steve knowing he understood the situation, if not the specifics. Steve's technophobia only extended to some of the personal gadgets for which he saw no use – he'd made a considerable effort to get to grips with anything that had a strategic or security function and, for the most part, at least understood its purpose and capabilities even if direct usage sometimes still presented a challenge: Tony reflected he'd actually done pretty well for someone who'd come from an era where RADAR was just about as advanced as it got.

"_Details?"_ The Captain's façade was firmly in place and ready to offer any assistance he could.

Tony briefly considered telling him not to bother; he had enough on his mind; it was too technical…but then realised he could do with all the help he could get when it came to possible team deployment (_especially given they were very thin on the ground – where the hell was that hammer-wielding maniac anyway?_) and anything else he was likely to forget. If Tony was honest with himself, he knew he could solve just about any technical or scientific problem imaginable if needed, but he couldn't organise a bun fight in a bakery let alone organise a team whose members only had one common skill: The ability to cause complete chaos.

He quickly transferred the data from the monitoring system to the holographic screen showing the weakened area. It took the shape of a rough circle with the more densely shaded parts being those least damaged near the edge and the area becoming obviously more vulnerable towards the centre, the point of initial impact by the Tesseract. A small region, relatively close to the outer edge, showed a contrasting signal similar to a pebble being thrown into a body of water, pulsating ripples radiated outwards at regular intervals.

Steve nodded. Bruce had shown him this the other day, when he'd asked for an update on the progress of the work, so he knew what he was looking at.

"_Odd that it's in one of the stronger areas, could it be natural or is whoever's doing this just not that accurate?"_

"Hard to tell," Tony looked at some of the data the scan was yielding, "…it may not be artificially generated but there appears to be some kind of intelligence behind it, it's too regular for a natural phenomenon – certainly nothing like we've ever seen before but doesn't look like it's close to being as powerful as the Tesseract either."

"Hey Tony" Bruce entered the lab looking like he'd just crawled out of bed – it was 4am, chances were he had. "Good," he said seeing the graphic of the affected zone, "let's see what we've got here."

While Bruce reviewed the data and made fine tuning adjustments to his scanning algorithms, Tony analysed the power signature and its effects.

Steve moved away from the two scientists and observed them working. A large part of what they said was incomprehensible to him but he'd got better at realising he didn't need to know the detail – that was their area of expertise – and was starting to be fairly adept at inferring the gist of what was going on: From the little he could pick up and the changing graphic, he could see that these ripples were gradually weakening the area around the centre of the pulse and it would soon punch through. This wasn't good. Whatever was behind this had to be taken as a serious threat and they still had no idea of what might be on the other side.

"_Any chance we have enough information to generate a 3D model of the affected area?"_

Tony glanced over at him with a querying look, not wanting to distract Bruce by apparently talking to himself.

"_Seems to me, that if they could rip through the entire area then they would. Instead it looks a bit like they're burrowing or creating a tunnel of some kind. If that's what it is then there'll be an angle of entry and it would be good to get an idea what part of the city's going to be first affected so we're focussed on the right location if anything starts to come through."_

It occurred to Tony that, sometimes, the problem with being a genius was that you missed the simple stuff. He nodded his appreciation to the Captain and instructed Jarvis to generate a 3D model of the weakened area of the atmosphere, sure enough, as far as the scanner could tell, a "shaft" of sorts was beginning to appear behind the focal point of the pulse.

"Jarvis, extrapolate likely angle of entry should the pulse break through and generate model of 1 square mile below potential impact zone. Add visuals of area from all sources."

Almost instantaneously wireframes of the area sprang up with a representation of the spatial disturbance above them. Images from CCTV cameras, lit currently by street lights only, linked to their locations appeared around the model. A sleepy-looking Clint and an ever-alert Natasha entered the lab at much the same time and proceeded to familiarise themselves with the situation via Jarvis' readouts.

"Looks like this thing's going to break through in a little over 15 minutes. The aperture will be minute but, due to the ripple effect from the pulse, the integrity of the area around it has dropped substantially. It's likely the opening will get bigger very quickly once they break through." Bruce observed. "Tony, do you have the power signature analysis? I think there may be a way to block and reverse this pulse if I can configure the frequencies and we can devise some way of delivering it."

With an elegant sweep of his hand, Tony sent the required data directly to Bruce's interface.

Natasha was looking at the city model: "Is this where whatever these things are will land first?"

"Best guess…almost all office buildings…will be empty at this time of the morning."

"_Except for security and cleaning staff. Best alert the police to start making sure all civilians are out of there in case."_

Tony glanced apologetically at Steve; that honestly hadn't occurred to him. He went to instruct Jarvis to connect him to the police when Steve added:

"_Delegate that to Natasha and get her to update Fury at the same time, then she and Barton should get themselves on the ground down there – it's only a couple of blocks away, you can be there in moments if you need to be. You and Bruce are more valuable here at the moment."_

Tony gave the orders as instructed. This was why he wasn't cut out to lead; he tended to forget the small things like laying the groundwork that made life easier along the way and he also had a habit of trying to focus on too many things at once rather than using the team to lighten the load and allow him to focus on his strengths.

The two SHIELD agents had left the lab. Natasha had already finished frightening the life out of a poor unsuspecting Night Desk Police Sergeant, who'd immediately despatched several units to the area, and was completing her briefing to the Director by the time the two of them emerged from the elevator on the ground floor of the tower.

"Has Stark been reading 'Leadership for Dummies' or something?" Clint asked her with a sideways glance.

She looked exaggeratedly exasperated and clipped him around the back of the head using little enough force to suggest she may have been thinking the same but was just too professional to admit it.

Bruce and Tony had isolated the weaknesses in the pulse signal that was drilling its way through the fabric of the atmosphere and identified a means to combat it. One of the hand repulsors on Tony's suit, aided by a similar signal from the communications array on the top of Stark Tower had a suitable output to allow them, when synchronised, to deaden the effect of each pulse or at least slow its progress significantly: It would take both elements working in unison to achieve this but did not require any additional hardware, essential given the brief time period within which they had to work. The difficulty was delivering a second signal that would actually negate the effect of the pulse so that Tony could close the aperture completely.

Looking at the schematic required for the delivery system of the second signal, Tony's eyes darted across all the data with that extraordinary focus Steve had seen only the day before when he was creating the phase modulator. The Captain could only marvel at the two scientists' ability to communicate so much complex data with so few syllables.

"Quinjets: We can use the tracking system on a couple of quinjets. All the components are there, it'll just need a software modification."

Bruce contacted Fury outlining the proposal and was immediately patched through to a rather bleary-eyed engineer who nodded dumbly as he received his instructions. He advised around 30 minutes to complete modifications…

"_Tell him it needs to be 15"_ Steve was concerned that sensors appeared to be picking up movement the other side of an increasingly thin fragment of space that seemed to be all that was left at the focal point of the pulse.

Tony urged Bruce to whittle down the engineer's estimate - significantly!

After a brief altercation, and assurances he'd be paid overtime (even though he had no idea Bruce didn't have adequate seniority to authorise it), the engineer agreed to wake the rest of his team up and make the necessary changes. The quinjets still wouldn't be available for at least 30 minutes even with the helicarrier making all speed towards Manhattan: Iron Man, with Jarvis synchronising the tower array, was going to have to restrict the opening of the aperture for as long as possible.

Tony completed the modifications to the hand repulsor and instructed Jarvis to upload the additional software and synchronisation program.

"Tony, you MUST not exceed the amount of power to the signal that's been programmed, the most you can hope to do is slow the rate of the aperture expanding: If you increase power you'll deplete your arc reactor too quickly." Bruce warned as the process completed.

_"Listen to him Tony. If you jeopardise yourself before those quinjets arrive, you jeopardise everyone's safety." _Steve's voice was authoritative and controlled - Tony wondered how the hell he was managing to suppress his own overwhelming personal concerns; that was the Captain he figured._ "They're breaking __through."_ He added, to Tony's dismay.

Tony looked at the 3D representation of the pulse epicentre. As the area had become progressively weakened sensors were able to penetrate further into the space behind it. Although the hole in the atmosphere was only a few millimetres in diameter, it could clearly be seen that there were a large number of wriggling, snake-like creatures battling to get through the opening and into the sky above Manhattan.

Iron Man rapidly prepped the suit and made to leave. Bruce was finalising and double-checking the final specs for the SHIELD engineering crew who were already working on the modifications to the quinjets.

"_Tony, deploy Hulk here if you need to." _Steve indicated an area around a quarter of a mile from the entry point for the aliens.

"I can't control the Hulk" Tony hissed in a low voice so Bruce wouldn't hear.

"_You won't need to, just drive everything towards him and he'll stay put."_

"Jarvis," Tony muttered, knowing the AI would hear him no matter how low his voice, "leave an open comms link to the lab at all times and maintain all visuals to the city model.

"Understood." Tony was grateful Jarvis never questioned any orders given during a crisis, even if he didn't understand them.

"What's understood?" Bruce moved away from the terminal having uploaded everything the engineers needed. "Where d'you need me?"

"Just giving Jarvis some last minute instructions." Tony indicated the area he wanted Bruce to cover. "Don't scale up till you need to Big Guy, you'll know when and if you have to."

"On my way" Bruce grinned tentatively, he hated knowing he might have to change soon, it was never a pleasant form of anticipation.

Tony tapped the phase modulator on front of the suit. "Wasn't built with battle in mind, hope it holds up."

"_I'll help all I can Tony, but you're more than capable. You'll be fine."_ Steve's voice was soft but firm and broadcast a reassurance Tony knew he didn't feel.

"Don't go anywhere till I get back." The expression that met his instruction said that the Captain knew he couldn't guarantee to follow that order.

Tony closed his faceplate and, regretfully, headed off towards the threat.


	11. Chapter 11

**I can't believe how fast I wrote this.  
**

**Just for those of a squeamish disposition: No animals, real or imaginary, were harmed in the writing of this chapter - they're all CGI, particularly the recognisable ones!  
**

**...and, for the record, I love animals: I just wanted my aliens to be nasty and a credible threat but without any complex villainous agendas.  
**

**Huge cyber-hugs to my lovely regular reviewers. You may be thin on the ground but you're making this a worthwhile endeavour, thanks for your support.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Tony headed for the launch pad with a degree of indifference towards the mission. He'd have to slow the rate of the aperture's opening while he waited for SHIELD to complete the work on the quinjets, but even their engineering mediocrities couldn't louse up a minor adjustment and a software install. Because they'd caught it so soon, it was barely worth worrying about what would probably never get a chance to happen; evacuating the area below and having people on the ground was purely precautionary. Trust Captain America to want to play by the book and ensure all bases were covered, even if the threat never got a chance to materialise.

Still, deep down, Tony knew the Captain was right. After all, the fiasco of the other night was, in no small part, due to him not taking it all that seriously when he'd realised how little threat the 'enemy' posed: He should probably have taken more flack for it from the others except that they'd all been a bit lax and had, realistically, got lucky with the outcome – add to that, they all knew it.

He looked down at the phase modulator wondering if he'd have been happier if he hadn't created it, would he wonder why he'd made it if Steve lost his case? Would he question how he'd spent the last 24 hours or just not worry about it as everything was blocked from his memory and curiosity?

"_Tony,"_ Steve's voice resonated inside the suit, _"the opening is starting to increase in size, doubling with each pulse. You should hurry."_

Tony ran a quick check on the visuals. "It's only at 2cm diameter now, another pulse due in 18 seconds. It'll be a while before it's big enough for anything to get through."

"_What about viruses, bacteria, chemical weapons….?"_

"Alright, you made your point. Jarvis, full air filtration and environmental scans as we approach the area."

Jarvis confirmed as Tony launched in the direction of the opening. He arrived on the far side of the disturbance from the tower and was prepping synchronisation with the other array just as the next pulse hit: Even at less than 10 metres distance from the aperture it was scarcely detectable to the naked eye in the early light of the day….until something started to emerge from the tiny hole in the sky…

Tony doubted what he was seeing initially as a tiny black dot appeared, suspended in the sky some 50 feet above the buildings below. Zooming in gave no further clarity as to what it was other than to confirm it was actually there and moving very slightly as though trying to wriggle through a hole that wasn't quite big enough.

"Jarvis, add my visual to display in lab. Steve? Are you seeing this?"

Down at street level, Natasha turned to Clint and mouthed: "Who's he talking to?" Clint shrugged, bewildered.

"_I see it….what the hell is it?."_

"The next pulse will be in 7 seconds. Synchronising array." Jarvis intoned.

"Confirmed." Tony held up the modified hand repulsor and zeroed in on the coordinates of the aperture.

As the next pulse hit, it was significantly weakened as Bruce had predicted. Readouts on the HUD confirmed that the opening had only widened by a little over 1cm, significantly slowing but not eliminating its increase in size: The small increase in diameter, however, was apparently enough for whatever had been trying to get through.

A thin, black, snake-like creature, about 3 foot long with curious spiky scales, slithered through the opening; to be followed almost immediately by another…and another…and another.

The first of the small creatures headed directly for Tony, bouncing harmlessly off the suit with a dull clunk and falling a short way before recovering and swimming off through the air as if it was water.

"Jarvis, analysis?" Tony took a pot-shot at some of the others with his unmodified gauntlet and the creatures evaporated satisfyingly as they were hit. "Not much to them." But reluctantly he realised that he couldn't keep firing like that with the rate they were coming through, he'd reduce his power too rapidly.

"_Just a lot of them. Focus on keeping the size of that opening limited as much as you can Tony,"_ Steve eyed the 3D scan of the gap and the area behind it, the space around the area was now so thin that he was starting to see quite a clear visual of what seemed to be trying to get through. _"It looks like these are only the smallest of them and I think they get a lot bigger. You need to restrict them as much as possible."_

"Sir, the creatures are fully organic but appear to be able to thrive in any environment. They seem to have no remarkable defensive or offensive capabilities. There are no venom sacs or anything similar in their physiology." Tony watched as one of them turned elegantly and swiftly in the air, trapping a small bird and swallowing it whole. "They also appear to be carnivorous." Jarvis concluded solemnly.

"Good to know all those years of development I spent on you were worthwhile J." Tony said, having learnt nothing he couldn't have ascertained from his own observation. Another of the small creatures emerged from the aperture and took a swipe at Tony, its tiny fangs showing as it flew straight at the faceplate only to fall away on impact: These little ones weren't of any real threat other than the panic they could cause but, he had to admit, he didn't like the idea of what the bigger ones could be like as he watched a group of them start to swarm and attack a flock of birds that had just risen from the park only to be decimated and devoured by the invaders.

"_Can you spare the power to drive these things downwards to the others, they need to be contained: Focus on the aperture and get the team to deal with these."_

Tony complied, using a stream of energy from his repulsor to skim the top of the gathering swarm and send those creatures not incinerated downwards towards the rest of the team: "Hawkeye, Widow? Are you having fun yet?" He braced himself for the next pulse as he waited for the reply.

"Just starting to reach us, I don't need a gun for this I need a large fly swatter." On the CCTV feed back at the lab, Steve watched as Natasha elegantly swung a metal pole she'd liberated from somewhere to sweep through a small group of the creatures before hurling them into a wall where their glutinous bodies smashed into a viscous purple mess.

A roar that was heard even within the confines of the tower had Steve looking to the screen that showed Bruce's location: The snakes had run into Hulk and weren't having the best of times as a result. He watched, with the awe he always felt when the Other Guy made an appearance, as a huge green hand gathered maybe twenty of more of the creatures up and smashed them into the ground.

The issue, he concluded, was going to be weight of numbers rather than the danger of the snakes individually but even these smaller ones were vicious – he winced as movement in the corner of another screen caught his eye, seven or eight of the 'space snakes' appeared to be attacking a small animal of some kind, a cat….it didn't stand a chance. If Steve had a stomach, it would have churned at the sight of the doomed creature. His concern flew to the more obviously vulnerable of his team.

"_Tony, warn Nat and Clint that these things can do real damage in numbers. Tell them to stick together and not get hemmed in."_

Tony had just ridden out the next pulse and was pleased to see that they were successfully limiting expansion of the opening…but not enough to prevent one or two larger snakes (about twice the size of the first ones) which came through in amongst what was now a torrent of the repulsive creatures pouring through the hole. He barked out the Captain's message to the two assassins on the ground – the fact they concurred so readily suggested they were starting to feel the same way themselves.

"Jarvis, how long till the jets get here?"

"They have launched and should be here in a little under 8 minutes."

"How long will power to the suit last if I increase the charge used on the pulse?"

"That course of action would result in power being sufficiently depleted to no longer be able to maintain flight in 6.7 minutes, Sir. It is an inadvisable course of action and it is unlikely you would be successful in closing the aperture which…."

"I get it J – don't labour the point." Frustrated, Tony blasted one of the larger snakes as it wriggled its way into Earth's atmosphere. The smaller ones adjacent to it, that weren't destroyed by the same shot, scattered in every direction away from the heat."

Steve watched on one of the CCTV cameras covering a peripheral street as several of the strays from that blast descended and attacked a police officer. He managed to get them off him with the help of his partner but picked up several painful-looking bites: Steve hoped these things weren't carrying any unknown diseases.

"_Tony, don't do that: It causes them to scatter, you need to keep them contained. They'll cause mass panic if they start getting out into the city."_

"What do you suggest?" Tony hovered in anticipation of the next pulse while Steve considered the creature's reactions to heat….fire! Of course, all wild animals fled from fire and that's what these were: This wasn't a sophisticated invasion, more like a plague of locusts.

"_Get Clint to fire incendiary arrows onto the tops of the buildings – let's make them a landing strip straight to the Hulk!"_

Despite knowing Hulk could withstand virtually anything that came at him, Steve still felt bad sending everything in his direction but, with Iron Man needed elsewhere, he really was the best bet for controlling these things.

Tony relayed the command. Clint and Natasha had taken refuge in the foyer of an office block and were firing out of small spaces cut in the glass: Whilst both were extraordinarily fit, this kind of onslaught was wearing and some of the bigger snakes that were making their way down to them were a substantial weight. They both carried scratches and marks from near misses with the vicious fangs of the creatures.

"I'll cover you." Natasha assured the archer as he switched to the correct setting on his bow and selected the arrows needed. They sprinted into the street, Natasha somehow managing to wield both her incredibly useful iron bar and a gun and clearing a path for them both through the increasingly thick sea of snakes by a series of acrobatic manoeuvres.

Hawkeye emptied the airspace above them using an arrow that exploded around a dozen small flares above their heads, causing a scattering of the throng (many of whom stampeded into a nearby wall) and proving the veracity of the theory that they'd run from fire, before he aimed two arrows in quick succession onto the roofs of the neighbouring buildings.

As the incendiaries were set off, flames shot into the sky reaching to not far below where Tony was hovering. The snakes still cascading through the aperture sensed the immediate danger and, as anticipated, the throng headed straight towards the Hulk who appeared to be enjoying himself immensely as he swatted huge swathes of the creatures into hard surfaces in every direction, he was almost covered in purple from the life-blood of the creatures.

"Well at least Bruce likes purple," Barton grinned momentarily forgetting his earpiece.

"_Remind Barton to keep comms clear."_

"You heard…well no you didn't…but keep comms clear Barton! Next pulse in 3…2…1…"

The next pulse opened the aperture wide enough for an even larger snake to pass through – its body was the circumference of a small tree and Tony, in spite of himself, gasped in horror as it trailed through, snapping its jaws in his direction. He wasted no time in slicing through it with his gauntlet and watched with satisfaction as the head fell to Earth – only to feel slightly sick as the creatures behind it all but devoured it in their haste to clear their entry point.

"Ugh, cannibals!" Tony briefly considered that vomit inside the faceplate would be highly unpleasant and inconvenient and swallowed hard.

Back inside the safety of the foyer, Clint took care to silence his earpiece before turning to Natasha and querying: "Did I just get dissed by Tony's imaginary friend?"

"Not now…" she hissed back at him, but accompanied her comment with a roll of the eyes that suggested she was equally concerned by Tony's behaviour. "Incoming!" She yelled as she saw four of the largest snakes yet heading down the street. She took out one with a straight shot through the head, Clint launched another of the flare arrows which sent the smaller ones in all directions and the window they were using took several very messy hits from the fleeing creatures, but the larger ones only seemed a little disoriented and one turned in their direction regarding the source of movement malevolently: It charged at the window and broke straight through, the collision was enough to stall it briefly and Nat swiftly despatched a bullet to its brain but another was right behind it, accompanied by numerous smaller ones.

"Elevated view?"

"Sounds good."

They ran for the stairwell, Clint using one of his last two flares to send the creatures scattering over the area and buying them time to get the other side of the hefty door. They sprinted up two floors and managed to find a good vantage point behind several sturdy fire doors.

From the window overlooking the street below, they both found a moment to marvel as the Hulk grabbed the remaining larger snake and wielded it as a weapon against the others: At nearly twelve feet long, it cut a swathe through the creatures, slamming them into hard surfaces and shattering almost all of the smaller ones to fragments. But, whilst neither of them was concerned that any of the creatures would be able to pierce the Other Guy's skin (he was impervious to missiles after all) it was worrying to think how much bigger these things could get and would there come a point where just their sheer numbers could nullify him.

"How long till the jets get here, Stark? There are just too many of these things." Natasha never sounded panicked, but, Tony reflected, that sounded pretty close.

He was about to check with Jarvis when he heard a sound, looking up he saw the two quinjets approaching and preparing to move into position.

"They're here now Nat." The relief in his voice was plain.

"_So is Yustis, Tony. I have to go."_

"WHAT? No! You can't go now!"

Natasha and Clint glanced at each other in worried confusion at the one-sided exchange they heard over their earpieces.

"_Tony, the jets are here. You'll be fine, just stop these things coming in and Hulk will probably manage the rest."_ Steve took a moment to take a quick look at Hulk delightedly swatting the creatures as they swarmed towards him. _"Take care of the team….and thanks."_

Tony held it together as the next pulse hit but barely registered the results.

"Jarvis. Current location of the Type 3 signature?"

"The signature is now absent from the Tower, Sir." If Jarvis was confused as to the reason for the question in the middle of a battle, he chose not to express it at this time.

"Not now….come back…" Tony groaned, oblivious to being on open comms channel.

Clint muted his earpiece once more: "OK, so our illustrious leader is so bad at personal relationships he even gets dumped by people he's made up. Now can I worry?"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Almost there. This is, most likely, the penultimate chapter. I do hope you enjoy it.**

**This one's all Tony - seemed like the cleanest and most dramatic way to write it.  
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**Reviews, as always, gratefully received. Thank you once again to those happy few who've given me such wonderful feedback and support whilst writing this.  
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* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

For the briefest of moments, amongst the chaos that reigned around him, Tony felt numb…bereft: This was so wrong…it couldn't be happening.

He looked at the phase modulator, still attached to the front of the suit; he remembered everything and, as long as he did, he reassured himself that meant Steve was okay, for the time being at least.

The momentary distraction, however, proved fateful as the increase in the aperture caused by the most recent, and significantly stronger, pulse allowed the ingress of a number of even larger snake-like aliens than before. As they started to pour through, with the smaller of their kind taking the opportunity to slip through as their bodies narrowed towards the tail, one turned from the descent and eyed the hovering Iron Man with disdain: Darting towards him, Tony barely had time to react as the creature flew directly at him, jaws wide, yellowed fangs bared.

Too late he made to raise his right hand bearing the non-modified repulsor to defend himself but was caught, squarely in the chest as the huge beast, at least 15 foot long, barrelled into him: Although its fangs weren't particularly powerful against the toughened exterior of the Iron Man armour, its weight and momentum threw Tony backwards as closing jaws sought purchase and a fang caught on a corner of the phase modulator. He blasted it with the repulsor (which, at such close range, separated the creature's head from its body) and looked with satisfaction (and no small measure of relief) as the now bisected assailant tumbled earthwards; only barely aware in his shock that, as the alien fell, something metallic detached from the suit still clasped in its jaws.

"Jarvis, damage report." Tony flew back to his position realising, from the HUD readout, that the quinjets were now prepped to begin negating the effect of the pulse so that he and the signal from the tower array could effectively start to close the creatures' access point.

"Superficial damage only Sir. All systems functioning normally. Power at 67%." Jarvis was succinct and certain.

"What? I thought something came off the suit! What was it?" Tony was now in position and checking that all four points of assault on the aperture were perfectly synchronised. Encouraged by the information that power levels were still reasonably high, he took a few pot shots at some of the larger snakes which, less intimidated by the now receding flames from the incendiaries, were looking to spill into neighbouring streets away from the Hulk.

"I am not sure what that was Sir. I am unaware of any additional component to the suit."

Tony blinked hard and focussed. No time to worry about what it was now. He suppressed the nagging suspicion he'd forgotten something and braced himself to maintain the perfect angle for delivery of the beam concerned at the abrupt increase in the power of the latest pulse.

When it came, he monitored a spike in the force of the impact. The jets appeared to be performing their function of attempting to deaden its power but the plan had been formulated on the basis of earlier pulse readings, which had been substantially lower. Despite executing the plan perfectly, they had only succeeded between them in maintaining the aperture at its current size – there was no discernible reduction as the pulse receded at which point they were unable to affect it further: The stream of creatures entering showed no signs of abating although, thankfully, no larger ones were able to come through.

"Jarvis, why's the pulse getting stronger? Analysis."

"The pulse appears to be generated by the creatures themselves. I can only speculate at this point that the area behind the aperture has widened adequately to allow access to a far larger and more powerful member of their species.

Tony _REALLY_ didn't like the sound of that. The HUD showed him that all four points of their defence were running at maximum possible efficacy but unless he could find a way to remove that creature from the equation, these things would continue to come through until they ran out of power at which point the next pulse would blow the sky wide open.

Approaching the opening, still thinning out as many of the larger snakes as he dared without compromising his power reserves too much (the HUD showed that just holding the last pulse had reduced his power levels by 12%), he realised the front end of a huge black outline was visible through the damaged area….he muttered a string of curses under his breath, this thing must be at least 20 times bigger than anything they'd seen so far and, at a rough guess, was probably responsible for almost all the force of the pulse.

His mind raced, calculating variables and possibilities. The shadow behind the sky loomed larger, obviously determined to exert maximum force on the aperture with the next pulse. It was a gamble, he knew, but all Tony's considerable scientific instincts told him that with this creature out of the picture there was every chance the tower array would have enough power to close the aperture on its own….most likely…with a bit of luck….okay, so evens at best but better than no chance at all!

Flying forward he positioned himself a few feet below the opening, dodging and smashing past as many of the creatures as he could so as not to waste valuable energy unnecessarily, and fired into the aperture with everything the suit had left that wasn't actually required to keep him airborne, desperately hoping it would be enough.

Responding to the gabble of voices inside his helmet, he abruptly outlined the situation to the stunned and slightly alarmed response of the agents on board the quinjets who, in the absence of any better options, concurred with his course of action. He continued firing, a sustained stream from his right hand repulsor that was draining his power with alarming rapidity, still attempting to shrug off as many of the (relatively) smaller snakes as possible but increasingly aware of how sluggishly the suit was responding as everything available to him was diverted to destroying the beast.

Power levels were just starting to slip below 8%, barely enough to keep him in position, when he realised that the area behind the aperture appeared to be shaking. The HUD showed the next pulse to be mere seconds away. There was an awful moment of almost eerie silence, which may just have been his senses excluding everything except his direct view into the abyss, as time appeared to slow and even the slew of snakes coursing over him seemed to momentarily vanish…and then everything happened at once.

Tony couldn't resist the broad grin that grew unchecked as he realised what the shaking was a precursor to….a grin that rapidly disappeared as he found himself showered in what could only be described as "liquefied essence of enormous space-dwelling snake" which poured through the opening above and successfully coated him, its force sending him reeling downwards. Blinded by the gelatinous purple goo, he had to rely on the HUD, now flickering slightly as it operated in reduced-power mode, to tell him that the next, almost negligible pulse was not only being entirely negated by the quinjets but successfully reversed by the tower array: He watched as it decreased throughout the duration of the process, with the cycle completing with the aperture at slightly less than 20% its previous size.

"Next time round you bastards," he smirked, focussing on using the little power he had left to right himself given that only one (barely) functioning repulsor made manoeuvring pretty tricky.

His relief however was short-lived. As he used his, modified and therefore useless for stabilising him, left gauntlet to clear the faceplate's visor he almost wished he hadn't as he became the target for no less than four of the largest snakes who'd obviously identified him as the source of their leader's demise.

Tony had to admit, the suit's compromised state made this a less than ideal situation as he simply didn't have the power to make a quick getaway. He routed what little power he could to thrusters, attempting to make a dive for the nearest building, in the hope of finding cover, but found himself staring down the throat of a large gaping mouth which appeared to be endeavouring to swallow him whole. He was vaguely aware of a lot of rather ineffectual shouting coming over his helmet communicator which served very little purpose as far as he was concerned given that no-one was in a position to help him: The voices stopped abruptly as a fang managed to catch on and disable a nest of circuitry at the back of the helmet effectively cutting off his communications with the rest of the team and Jarvis – oddly enough he found the silence to be something of a relief; if he was going to be eaten alive (the way a crab is eaten by an octopus) on national TV he'd probably prefer not to have to hear a commentary about it at the same time.

He mustered what little strength and power he had left in the suit attempting to buy himself some time (he'd be damned if his dying thought was going to be comparing himself to a crustacean) and raised his right hand in an attempt to dislodge the beast that had his head in a vice-like grip only to feel another of the snakes latch on to his arm. He managed a short burst from the repulsor with the suit's little remaining energy but could feel that he'd only been partially successful as, although the pressure on his limb ceased, the weight didn't – unable to see what had happened he could only assume he now had the dead weight of the snake adding to the sensation that his arm was being pulled away from his body, he just hoped that if the sleeve came off the suit his own arm didn't go with it.

Tony was starting to feel quite dazed as his head took repeated blows from the inside of the helmet as what felt like another of the snakes joined the fray in their apparent desire to tear him apart and was therefore quite surprised when his thoughts departed from the clarity he'd had in composing his appropriately Stark-like dying thought to a sudden onslaught of memories and images all vying for his attention.

"_Coffee!"_ It suddenly struck him that his life lately had contained totally insufficient quantities of his favourite beverage….and it further occurred there was a really good reason for that….he just couldn't quite remember what, having his head being shaken about like a bead in a rattle really affected his concentration….and as a way to die, this really sucked…not that there were any particularly good ways…

…and then a blinding flash of light and heat caused the snakes to shrivel and explode and (most importantly) peel away from him, releasing their grip as their charred remains fell to Earth. The charge that killed them transferred enough power to the suit to allow the thrusters to fire adequately and prevent him from following them.

Almost instantaneously, he became aware of an arm supporting him in midair as the pain from his own arm, which he realised was close to being completely dislocated, overwhelmed him. He tiredly turned his aching head and saw, with relief, a familiar face as he was gently lowered towards the ground.

"Man of Iron, are you badly injured?" At this distance, Thor was quite loud enough not to need any kind of comms.

With no functioning communications and scared as to what attempting to shake his head might feel like, Tony barely managed to raise his left hand in a half-hearted thumbs up. He had a feeling he was supposed to be mad at this guy for some reason but, whatever it was, it would be churlish to pursue that line of thought when he'd just saved his life….and there were all those other things that seemed determined to make their way to the front of his pain-fogged brain…so he just settled for being set down in an alleyway and focussed on trying to remain upright which was, worryingly, far more challenging than he'd prefer.

Thor took a moment to steady Tony and, when he realised the genius was raising his useable left hand to withdraw the faceplate, reached forward to expose the man's face to the, mercifully, fresh(ish – the acrid smell of burning snake predominated) air.

The god had clearly received some kind of instructions over his earpiece as he raised his head and looked above him.

"Stay here," he said gently. "You are injured my friend." Without another word, he launched himself skyward and started to incinerate the larger of the snakes, particularly those that had spread into the neighbouring streets.

Tony looked up and, for an instant, the sight of the sky sealed with no more of the repulsive creatures entering the atmosphere made him smile…which in turn made him wince – his head really hurt: The increase in oxygen helped to clear his mind which he regretted immediately as he regarded the walls and paving of the local area spattered with copious quantities of snake entrails and more than a few of the smaller ones chasing each other and anything else that moved – not a good sight on an empty stomach.

His head started to clear enough for all those other images, the ones that had started to pester him when he'd thought he was dying, to try and make their way to the forefront of his mind, but he was still struggling to focus on them even though it all felt horribly familiar…but not as familiar as the next thing he noticed.

A large snake turned the corner of the alley and glared at him viciously, clearly escaping the pogrom Thor was unleashing elsewhere: To say that, at this point, Tony was heartily sick of these things would have been an understatement of Olympic proportions; on the other hand, as he considered his chances against it, he would have had to see himself as the underdog in this encounter. Whilst available power for the suit had recovered slightly, without Jarvis' input it was impossible to say how much, he doubted he could manage more than a…sedate…take off at best, certainly a lot slower than anything the snake could muster; his right arm was only mobile with significant pain and a quick visual diagnostic suggested his single repulsor could well be damaged beyond repair; the suit remained in one piece and could probably withstand an onslaught from the creature for a little while but, without assistance, it was unlikely to remain intact for long which would only prolong things; and he had no way to call for help!

He responded in the only appropriate way.

"Oh…shit!"

The sharp sound of metal colliding with brick…the briefest flash of blue…and the snake no longer had a head with which to glare at him.

"That's what I was trying to remember…." Tony smiled briefly before finally relinquishing his tenuous grasp on consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Final chapter people. Thanks for all the lovely feedback.  
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**I think there may be a short epilogue to follow this - nothing actually essential to the story but a few loose ends that will be fun to cover.  
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**Enjoy!  
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**Chapter Thirteen**

Approximately 5 minutes earlier:

Clint and Natasha were both feeling frustrated by their ineffectiveness in this battle: For every snake they took out there were at least ten more; bullets and arrows, for the most part, were only worth using on the biggest of the beasts; the smaller ones just kept coming and were pretty much a waste of valuable ammunition - they were simply not able to eradicate enough of them while they continued to pour through the aperture.

Feeling temporarily secure, positioned in their raised vantage point, they both sensed the Hulk was beginning to get bored as well; it seemed 'smash gelatinous space dwelling life-forms into hard surfaces and watch them explode' was getting a little old as games went and staying in one place doing the same thing repeatedly was, most definitely, not his style.

"What the…?" Clint exclaimed watching Iron Man approach the aperture, almost disappearing in the torrent of snakes of all sizes pouring through: "I hope there's a reason for this….or else he's taking this break-up way too hard."

Black Widow rolled her eyes. "What _is_ he doing?"

The brief, barked explanation of the discovery of a massive snake behind the opening over the open comms channel reassured her that Stark was, for the moment, still playing with a mostly full deck.

Preoccupied with events in the sky above them, they barely realised they'd been pursued from the compromised foyer below: Whatever other adjectives could be used to describe these aliens, 'tenacious' would almost certainly be fairly close to the top of the list. They were using their combined weight to test structures and find any weaknesses, gradually managing to push their way through the doors and were now testing along the wall adjacent to the assassins' location.

Their first warning they weren't as safe as they'd assumed was the heavy fire door behind them rattling slightly: Natasha started and turned away from Iron Man's activity to realise they could soon find themselves overwhelmed.

She ran through her options: Bullets, limited in numbers and efficiency; arrows, again limited; she began to scour the area for other means of repelling the creatures; how had they found them? There was no evidence of high intelligence, their continuing assault on the Hulk to no avail proved that….he was destroying them en masse but they were still heading towards him…

"Scent and movement!" She almost shouted her realisation; Clint quirked his head questioningly.

"Think about it! They exist in space: They make no noise so sound is irrelevant to them. Light is limited in their normal habitat so chances are their sight isn't all that well-developed. Heat, movement and scent must be the things that they respond to." She regarded his dumbfounded expression. "Don't you ever watch wildlife documentaries?"

"Only to watch animals screwing…" his reconsideration of that particular reply came too late for his mouth to react and choose the more desirable option of remaining closed.

She gave him a look that suggested that was a topic to be revisited at a more appropriate time before continuing:

"They're following our scent. They're only interested in living prey and they'll pursue the scent until they find it, even if it destroys them…"

"Or us…So…?"

"So…we sour the trail for them…" She ran over to the wall and picked up a fire extinguisher. Clint figured, after his latest verbal faux pas, "unquestioning" would, on this occasion, be the apposite demeanour to adopt.

Positioning herself by the door, she waited until the snakes mounted another co-ordinated assault and watched in trepidation as they managed to shift it back on its hinges so that a gap began to appear through which she could see the twitching snouts of some of the smaller creatures start to appear, trying to force their way through. She released the powder from the extinguisher, dousing the outside edge of the door thoroughly: The invaders recoiled soundlessly but with a clear sense of panic among their numbers and the Black Widow allowed herself a triumphant smirk.

Clint was impressed. He grabbed himself another extinguisher…. "Pull pin…" he frowned, squinting first at the instructions and then at the object itself.

Natasha briefly considered whether the hassle of having to drag him along afterwards would be worth the satisfaction she'd glean from beating him soundly around the head right about now.

A sound like a gushing torrent drew their attention back to the window and they watched, with no small amount of disgust, as what looked like a slimy purple waterfall poured from the hole in the sky, with Iron Man clearly caught in the stream.

"Ugh, this mission's just too gross for this hour of the morning…" Hawkeye's comment was fatuous and belied his relief as he saw Tony pull himself clear of the substance. The sensation was short-lived and was rapidly replaced by concern as they both watched powerlessly when he came under attack from several huge snakes which all but obscured him as they attempted to destroy him in midair, "…he needs to watch who he gets tangled up with on the rebound though…..OW!"

This last remark finally earned him the slap around the back of the head he'd been asking for.

It was at around that point that things got a little confusing.

Dark clouds began to form, swirling around the rapidly closing aperture through which just a few of the smallest snakes were still managing to make their way. These were almost immediately followed by a bolt of lightning which incinerated the creatures attacking their teammate and they both sighed in relief at the sight of Thor swooping in to steady Tony in midair.

Simultaneously they were both assaulted by a series of images and memories making them wince involuntarily:

"The Captain! Where the hell's Steve?" Natasha looked at Clint in alarm.

"How did we not know he was missing…?" The archer sounded thoroughly bewildered.

"Worrying…"

"Embarrassing…"

A familiar voice over their earpieces shattered the normally stoic assassins' composure:

"Hawkeye, Widow, report! What is your status?"

"Cap," Nat all but shrieked, "where've you been? What happened?"

"Later." The calm authority of the voice brooked no argument. "Where are you? Do you need any help?"

They looked at each other, struggling to suppress the myriad of questions and focus on completing the job in hand. The portal was now fully closed and the stream of new foes had abated. They heard Steve instruct Thor to clear up snakes in the adjacent streets and ensure he drove any strays back in the direction of the Hulk.

Natasha, forcing herself to be professional, advised the team's leader of their position and the discovery of a means to drive the snakes back.

"Good, I'm going to teach Hulk a new game. We're going to drive all the remaining creatures to a single point. Join us if you think you can get to street level safely."

The two agents proceeded as ordered, feeling reassured and baffled in equal measures.

* * *

When Tony came to, he realised he'd been moved ("_OK, not gonna dwell on the implications of that for my dignity"_); a stout strip of fabric had been used to immobilise his suited arm in a temporary sling (_"Still hurts like a bitch but at least a slightly less vicious one now."_); and the team appeared to be organising some kind of bizarre snake barbeque as they herded the remaining snakes into piles only to be zapped by a bolt from Thor's hammer: They had all but won he was pleased to note.

Hulk was happily leaping from wall to wall, dragging out any of the creatures hiding in cracks or recesses and either adding them to the pyre or throwing the larger ones up in the air for Steve to slice in two with his shield, an activity that was greeted by an almost gleeful roar from the big guy: _"Looks like he missed him too"_, Tony grinned to himself, noting the curious looks Nat and Clint kept throwing in their leader's direction.

Finally, once Steve was satisfied they'd eradicated all the creatures, he instructed the fire crews to move in and start washing away the unbelievable mess and small fires that remained, he turned to see Tony watching him with a mix of curiosity and incredulity.

"How d'you feel?"

Tony attempted a shrug before remembering, with a significantly painful twinge, that that was a really bad idea in the circumstances, and replying:

"Like Indiana Jones…" Steve just rolled his eyes. "The hearing. What happened?" Tony forced his slightly clearer mind back on to the real issue.

"Case dismissed." Steve grinned back. "Seems you're stuck with me now so you'll have time to explain that reference."

"I guess I can live with that." The flippant words were contradicted by the tone of relief with which they were uttered.

"Yeah, me too." The Captain smiled easily, but Tony could see the tension of the last few days lingered under the controlled façade.

Steve glanced around him making sure that none of the creatures had been missed and the job was completed; Clint and Natasha were checking over the remnants of the snakes and destroying any that still showed signs of life with unnerving enthusiasm; Hulk was starting to calm down; Thor looked over at the two men with a look that Tony thought looked worryingly like….guilt?

Obviously Steve had noticed that look too.

"The 'complaint' originated on Asgard." He told Tony softly.

"Wait! What?...Loki?!" Tony started struggling to get up, jarred his shoulder again and failed to suppress the gasp of pain that escaped his lips. Steve calmly clasped his good arm and helped him firmly but gently onto his feet, subtly steadying him as he did so. "Thought they had the little bastard under control."

"Take it easy Tony," Steve muttered under his breath, "Thor feels as bad as anyone about this."

"There you go again...being infinitely reasonable about everything." Tony grumbled testily but only half-seriously. "So…?" His inquisitiveness was overwhelming anything else he might be feeling at the moment.

"So…it seems like, as part of Loki's rehab, they thought it would be a good idea if he reacquainted himself with Asgardian culture and heritage. Among the artefacts they gave him access to was an ancient symbol of Asgard being one of the first worlds to sign up to the Galactic Treaty: The Khronos Stone. They've had it for millennia, seems even the archivists had forgotten what it could do…unfortunately, Loki hadn't."

"So this thing could be used to trigger a complaint. Like a preferred customer number?"

"Something like that." Steve's lips quirked slightly at the aptness of the analogy. "Anyway, apparently in all the time the Treaty's been in force, no-one's ever used that facility before and I guess the Council kind of….overreacted….a bit."

"…and jumped to attention because they didn't want to be seen to not be responding to their own alert system."

"When Yustis turned up on Asgard, no-one knew anything about it. It took a while to get to the truth, that's why Thor wasn't contactable."

Tony swayed a little, feeling slightly sick, but it had nothing to do with his injuries: The anguish Steve had been put through; the fact that the course of Earth history could have been completely changed; all based on a malicious, unsubstantiated whim…and all only put right because one decent being among the Time Guardians had bothered to pursue the truth.

"Yustis is a good guy." He stated simply. He raised his good hand onto Steve's shoulder and, almost unconsciously, gave it a squeeze. "Sorry Cap," he grinned sheepishly, unwilling to admit just how much he needed to reassure himself the man was actually there, "er…just steadying myself."

"I know you are." Steve replied simply, surreptitiously ensuring his grip on the fatigued and pained Iron Man was just a little more secure. He couldn't help feel the understanding the two of them had gained might just have made the last few days worthwhile…just about.

The last of the snakes had been despatched and the rest of the team were approaching, Thor supporting a barely conscious Bruce. Clint looked stained and dishevelled, Natasha, unusually, only a little better but, fortunately, all minus any serious injuries: The air felt heavy with unspoken questions no-one was quite sure how to phrase.

Clint finally broke the awkward silence. "Er…do we need to help with the clean up?" Despite the fact the answer to this question was the one he cared about least.

"I think the Fire Department can handle this. We need to get you fixed up," Steve said looking at Tony, "…then I think I'd better make everyone some breakfast."

"…and coffee?" Tony said hopefully.

"Of course….besides, I need to apologise." Steve looked like a naughty schoolboy.

"For what?"

"Well…I was in kind of a hurry to get to my suit and shield 50 floors up…I guess I took the door off your car in the rush…"

In spite of the pain it caused in his shoulder, Tony couldn't repress a laugh at this. Of course, that's where he'd have woken up…did he honestly think that mattered in the scheme of things? Yeah...this was Steve...of course he'd worry about damaging someone else's possessions even accidentally.

"No problem Cap. I don't think I'd ever want to sit in that car again after….er...tell you what, make me coffee and all will be forgiven."

The rest of the team watched the two men, two men who to their most recent recollection could scarcely bear to be in the same room together, wandering off towards the tower laughing and joking like old friends.

"OK, so am I the only one who _REALLY_ can't wait to hear this story?" Clint asked in amazement.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

It was sometime later before things finally calmed down back at the tower.

Steve was immediately collared by Director Fury demanding some kind of explanation for his inexplicable and unnoticed absence. He complied with good grace having first made sure that Tony's arm would be treated as a priority. Subsequently, the team all spent some considerable time removing copious quantities of snake goo from their persons.

Eventually, it was a substantially cleaner and more presentable group that gathered in the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of bacon and coffee for a belated, but nonetheless welcome, breakfast.

Tony, his arm in a sling and fortified by some hefty painkillers, looked about as close to happiness as you'd ever see him when he clutched the large mug of coffee Steve placed carefully in his left hand. From the rambling and slightly out-of-sequence version of the story with which the genius was regaling everyone, casual observers would imagine his brain to mouth filter was completely offline but Steve noted the judicious nature of the details he chose to disclose – he was relieved but not surprised given what he'd learnt about the man over the past couple of days and appreciated his discretion.

He carefully monitored the condition of his team: Bruce was exhausted and the Captain was sure it was only his curiosity about what had happened that was keeping him awake; Thor was unusually subdued and rather guilt-ridden - although that didn't stop him eating enough for a small army - Steve felt bad for the man and made sure he emphasised the Asgardian's efforts in uncovering and relaying the truth to the Time Council when asked to fill in the details of what had happened at the hearing; Clint was obviously just pleased to be getting a decent cooked breakfast and appeared to accept everything Tony said at face value, preoccupied as he was with shovelling as much food into his mouth as possible; Natasha, on the other hand, had the look of someone who knew when they were only getting part of the story...

When Steve turned back to the stove to deal with yet another pan of bacon and eggs, Natasha focussed on Tony's expression while he continued talking: He looked irritated?...No…more frustrated she decided.

Tony was indeed frustrated, though not for any reason Natasha suspected. He'd never noticed before (_"Be honest Stark, you were as bad._") that the team did tend to treat Steve like he was the emotionless automaton of the comics and stories and could almost see the man he'd grown to like and respect so much over the last couple of days disappearing back into the Captain's shell again before his eyes.

"_Time to change the status quo" _he decided smoothly shifting what he was saying to:

"….and later on, Steve's going to enlighten us about his time with the USO."

There was a brief trade of confused glances at the unanticipated change of subject before inquisitive heads turned so fast you'd have sworn there'd be multiple cases of whiplash among the assembled. The speediest of them caught a brief glimpse of a quirk to the corner of the Captain's lips before he turned and deadpanned straight back at the billionaire:

"….and Tony will tell us about his most recent car journey." He flipped a piece of bacon with unnerving accuracy onto the man's plate as punctuation.

Utterly delighted with the speed with which Steve had cottoned on…and the stunned reaction of the others (even Bruce was now fully awake) Tony wriggled his fingers and said with mock-offense:

"Exactly how am I supposed to cut that Mon Capitan?"

Steve gave an exaggerated sigh and leaned over to cut the offending rasher into bite size pieces while Tony whined, his eyes twinkling salaciously…

"It's my right hand Steeeeeve….I do all my favourite things with this hand…."

Calmly piling his own plate high as he finally took his place at the table, Steve nonchalantly tapped his ear and evenly stated:

"Oh I'm well aware of that and don't think for one moment I'm giving you any assistance in that regard."

It was probably for the best that no-one was sitting opposite Clint at that moment as half a mouthful of chewed breakfast almost hit the wall.

Tony sniggered mischievously: "That reminds me. Jarvis, get me the name of a good soundproofing contractor."

Steve chuckled and continued eating with only the lightest of blushes dusting his cheeks as he glanced apologetically at Natasha (it still ran against his nature to be even remotely bawdy in front of a lady even though he'd had it well drilled into him that 21st Century females despised being treated like delicate blooms).

Unexpectedly, although only because people tended to assume (erroneously) that his abundance of muscles equated to a paucity of intelligence and intuition, Thor reacted fastest to this exchange, guffawing loudly and elatedly at the turn of events.

"Ah my friends, I cannot wait to inform my brother how his malice has not only failed in its intentions but has improved the bond of camaraderie between teammates. It will infuriate him greatly." He looked genuinely happy for the first time since his return. Steve grinned happily at his revived spirits, Tony just winked at him – it wouldn't look good for his image to be too enthusiastic.

Natasha wasn't far behind Thor in catching up to the implications of what had just happened. She smiled reassuringly at Steve, reaching to squeeze his arm lightly and saying with genuine sincerity:

"We did miss you Cap, even if we didn't know it…" then more softly so only his enhanced hearing could detect it, "…and it's nice to finally meet you Steve."

Having only picked up on the first part of what she said, Clint – subtlety not being his strong suit - decided that was something he could run with:

"Too right we missed you. Should have seen us the other night – we gave headless chickens a bad name."

The breakfast table descended into a cacophony of banter and teasing – Steve smiled, reminded for once of happier memories and a sense of belonging.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it.  
**

**Randomite x  
**


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